Repossession
by Harmonica Smile
Summary: Law keeps trying to beat the past, but the past keeps beating him. A story of recovery and resilience. Law x Luffy, much later Law x Marco (I know!), Luffy x Zoro. Other characters: Doflamingo, Vergo, Smoker, Shanks (later), Benn Beckman (later). WARNINGS: Noncon, underage (memories), mature content, canon divergence, happy ending.
1. Chapter 1 - Capture, Captive

A/N: There are many ideas/elements in here borrowed from stories such as the wonderful _Worth_ , by Doctor Cyance, _Luminary_ , by xDrifter, and from various doujinshi and some brutal pieces of work I've come across here and there.

Though nowhere near as explicit as Doctor Cyance's _Remedial Lesson_ , or _Luminary_ , where Law _suffers_ while being held by Doflamingo, the main idea was to have Law arrested, along with Doflamingo and Vergo (yes, he lives), by the marines, two years after Dressrosa, "rescuing" him from similar brutality.

Only trouble is he's moving from one captivity to another. Initially, one bad situation spirals into the other, but it's not too long before Law manages to get "repossession" of himself, through his own resilience and the kindness of others. But you don't go through that kind of trauma without being traumatised, even if you're a supernova. Ultimately, a story of recovery and reflection, but it's a bumpy, angsty road. And with good reason! Not a whole lot of fighting action in this fic.

 **Trigger warnings** for rape, non-consensual sex, language. This chapter, implied/remembered.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – Capture/Captive**

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Law was cuffed to the chair, hands behind him. His legs were chained too. His black hair was still rippled through with blue – spiky and well-kept in terms of the way his sideburns framed his face, his trimmed goatee accentuated his sharp angles, his cheekbones. Someone was taking care of himself. The grey eyes glared at him nominally, before glancing down. There was no sass, no snarl, but no expectation of being treated well, of the marines thinking that he was anything but a full-fledged member of the Don Quixote crew, Doflamingo's willing underling. And even if they were able to see beyond that, he'd been a pirate in his own right before Vergo had captured him and brought him back into the poisonous folds of the Family. So, he was wanted, whichever way you looked at it. Depending on the marine that interrogated him, they were the lesser of two evils.

Under hooded eyes, he looked up at Smoker again as the older man called his name. There was some relief it was Smoker. They had some history, had fought together against Vergo in the past, but Law had also removed the man's heart and humiliated him in front of G5. Even so, he was fair in his own way.

"Law?"

How the mighty have fallen, Smoker thought, biting down on his two cigars. Law wondered if they'd find a way to his skin, though he hadn't known Smoker to act that way before. Then again, he'd never been captured by him. He felt numb. Had done so for most of the last two years. Detached, dissociated.

Vergo and Doflamingo had punished him, brutally, reminding him he was nothing but a pretty and skilled mouth. His body a receptacle for their whims. They still liked him to play doctor, and if they could only tame him, they'd have loved to have harnessed his devil fruit ability.

They dressed him up in a suit now and then to join the family meetings, to be sneered at by the other family members as a traitor. Which is why the marines had found him with them when they invaded.

Any other day he might have been shackled in either Doflamingo's or Vergo's bed, restrained to his own, or even in that fucking dungeon down in the freaking basement. There was no better word for it. Generally, without a stitch on. Perhaps covered and caked with the remnants, the excess of the night before, or clean, waiting for the assault to occur.

He wondered what might have happened if the marines had found him in that state? He shuddered inwardly, wasn't sure he'd be able to live down the shame, but thought that at least he wouldn't be subject to this suspicion, this wrongly levelled blame that he was on the side of Doflamingo.

That man had not made his life worth living: from childhood and now adulthood. A slight reprieve when Law had been able to run away in his late teens. There had been ten years physically free from him, though never from the threat of him. Execution would be a blessing.

Law sighed and looked up at the vice-admiral. He knew he was broken.

"Smoker. They chipped me." He tipped his head so Smoker could see the top of his ear, or the chip through his hair at least, seastone. "It's like two years of nicotine poisoning, and these make it unbearable."

He shook the heavy chains they'd secured his hands with, shook his shackled feet as much as the restraints allowed. He was barefoot. If the prisoners didn't come in with shoes, they didn't get them. Smoker wondered what had happened to Law's, but noticed that his nails, feet and hands, were manicured. As fitting an executive, perhaps. On the other hand, he seemed exhausted, the bags under his eyes permanent.

Where was his fight, his caginess, his nimble tongue? There was little fire at the edge of his eyes, and not even sadness. Resignation. No sense of entitlement that you'd expect a Quixote pirate to have. Was it the seastone? It wouldn't help. Why would an executive be chipped?

Smoker couldn't touch the cuffs either. He was a fruit user too. He ordered one of the lesser marines outside the office to come in and unlock them. The rookie's face betrayed his fear and doubt as he approached the pirate, but Law looked as if he couldn't give a shit about any of it, and not in his usual mouthy, bratty way either.

He glanced at the slats of light across the concrete of the interrogation room. It seemed a nice day out. The weather didn't give a fuck about what went on in the marine holding tank. Then again, the stone was cold under his feet. Maybe the weather was as vindictive as everyone else.

He wore the same striped convict uniform as the others of the Family who had been captured. It was loose fitting, probably a size too big. The officer released both his hands and legs, a seastone net at the ready. Smoker had his jutte nearby. There's no way they'd try this with Doflamingo. Then again, he wasn't chipped with kairoseki. Not a bad idea.

Law ignored the officer, no nod of thanks, no glare, as the chains fell behind him, and were loosened from his ankles. He stretched out his legs, stretched his arms above him, his shirt rising slightly. Was that a new tattoo, a brand? Smoker caught a flash of colour but didn't say anything. It didn't match any of the patterns they had on record for the pirate.

Law felt around his wrists where the cuffs had been. Smoker noticed the imprint, deep, of shackles that must have been applied before his capture by the marines, and for some time.

The Heart Pirate followed the vice admiral's gaze, then looked back at Smoker for a moment. He was tired – that seastone really was toxic. The other officer had scuttled out of the room to stand guard by the door.

"Could you move me from Doflamingo and Vergo?" he drawled, not maintaining eye contact, looking down at his tattooed fingers. He couldn't suppress a shudder. They were shackled as well in the cell they were sharing. Doflamingo was so powerful he was well and truly chained up. Vergo could use haki, but wasn't a devil fruit user, so he was in ordinary chains. They could move somewhat though, and they could move Law between them, close to them. And they did. Even in freaking crisis, couldn't leave him alone, but he was more of a threat now too.

Smoker tipped his head. "What are you to them?"

Law shrugged. Looked out the window, lethargic. Green out there. A few trees here and there. He imagined the grass under his feet, then turned back to Smoker, speaking without emotion. "Rag doll, fuck toy, something dispensable to be fucked and fucked with, over and over." He looked back down at the "death" tattooed on his fingers. Now, wouldn't that be welcome?

He regarded Smoker again. There was no sugar coating it. The vice-admiral took in Law's good looks. Still. Was his manner coquettish? Only from habit. Smoker could feel how hardened Law was. How unable to interact. Was it resentment for the marines, or the result of whatever he'd been up to for the last two years? They were some disturbing words, but Doflamingo was a disturbing kind of a guy.

"Who'll have me here, Smoker? The grunts? Kizaru? Akainu? You? Seems it's all anyone wants of me."

That's all he was good for, what he excelled at – and Doflamingo and Vergo had repeated it so often and got him to repeat it in the midst of their very unwanted ministrations that it had started to shape his neural pathways. Again. Reshape them? Return them to a previous very unwanted form.

He shrugged once more and folded his hands neatly on his lap. A patient measure, a feline grace. Law never lost it. Even beaten like this.


	2. Chapter 2 - Captured, Captive, Beaten

A/N: Kureha's working at a marine base. Don't ask me why. Doflamingo and the Executives were not imprisoned after Dressrosa.

Warning: Rape/Non-con, Disturbing content, Mature content.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 – Captured/Captive/Beaten**

* * *

Where was Law? Smoker had managed to secure him a cell away from Vergo and Doflamingo, but maybe he was even more vulnerable by himself. The black-haired pirate hadn't been wrong in his fears. He was eye candy for a lot of the men in there, marines and prisoners alike, though removal from the shichibukai and his sidekick had seemed paramount for him. Smoker bit down on his cigars at the thought of Doflamingo and roughly ran a hand up his own neck. The man wasn't someone you wanted to cross. He knew from experience.

He viewed Law's empty cell, the door not locked. His heart dropped and he felt the prickle of anger. Did the fucker escape? Take advantage of him? He pulled the cell door shut with his jutte, metal clanging against metal, but forced himself to calm down, to think. Not with how they'd chained him up when he went to his second interrogation yesterday, and that was with Kizaru. It didn't seem he'd had the strength, but Law _was_ sneaky. Still, he'd ask around before he put out an alert.

What had gone wrong over the last two years? Law's words, spoken so matter-of-factly, his demeanour, had got to him the day before, but pirates lied all the time and it wasn't like they lived within the confines of the law. The man was strong, but not currently. Without the seastone, there were very few that could beat him that weren't yonkos or others of the Worst Generation. He was equal with most of the latter and could hold his own against some of the shichibukai.

Not Doflamingo though. With the escape of the warlord from Dressrosa, it seemed Law was drawn back into the fold, kidnapped, taken captive, returned to a system he'd been trying to break. Law's explanation yesterday had rung true. Smoker had helped Law take Vergo down, after all, and there was no love lost between them. But they obviously hadn't taken him down far enough. What kind of deal had that marine-traitor made with the devil to still be standing?

The word on the street, or from unofficial marine sources, was that Monkey D. Luffy, the Strawhat captain, more than Law – much more – had managed to loosen Doflamingo's hold on Dressrosa. Still, Admiral Fujitora spoke of Law's skill. He wasn't to be underestimated.

Smoker had witnessed the so-called _Surgeon of Death_ working, with the younger pirate and his crew, to halt the production of black market devil fruits by kidnapping Doflamingo's scientist from Punk Hazard, and by destroying a factory associated with their manufacture. His actions had unleashed Doflamingo's anger as Smoker recalled only too well. Brat.

They'd destroyed the production factories on Dressrosa as well, their destination after Punk Hazard. Vergo escaped the chaos of Punk Hazard, obviously. Smoker wondered if one of his subordinates hadn't helped him. After all, he and Tashigi had kept information of his betrayal secret from his men as they had admired him so much.

During interrogation, Law had told him the disgraced vice-admiral, the disgraceful _pirate_ Vergo, had fled with Doflamingo and the other top Don Quixote executives from Dressrosa. They'd caught Law, half dead from battle, and taken him with them. He never made it onto the ship that spirited the Strawhats away. The ensuing two years were punishment for rising against the shichibukai. Maybe for fleeing from him in the first place.

For Law, his attack against Doflamingo had been personal. Oh he had plenty of reason to hate the World Government too, but that didn't lessen his bitterness toward the warlord. In addition to killing the only man who'd truly cared for him after the tragedy of Flevance – Doflamingo's own brother, Rocinante, Cora – he'd made Law's teenage years a living hell, as had his proxy, Vergo. Vergo- _san_.

The number of broken bones and bruises he'd received as a child and teenager for not using the correct honorific . . . and yes, he'd abused him when he was a teen too, if Doflamingo gave him permission.

Law had felt an icy anger at the high regard in which the fallen vice-admiral's men held him when he'd encountered it on Punk Hazard, even as he betrayed them. But then again, he'd been fooled by the very same geniality when he was a child, a very small thirteen.

Once Vergo's true colors were shown though, Law was the one seen as traitorous after he'd failed to escape with Cora, foiled by Vergo. A spy for the marines, Cora betrayed Doflamingo and the government for Law, and he and Law paid for it. If given permission, Vergo, Doflamingo's spy within the marines, would just rut him like some bitch once he'd started to mature, perfunctorily, brutal and humiliating. Denying him his pride, his identity, his free will.

They hounded him so much because he'd loved the man who had betrayed Doffy. Because Rocinante had stolen the devil fruit which Doflamingo coveted. It saved his life. Though for a long time, he didn't know if it had been worth it. They wanted his subservience, and well, mostly they had it. Finally got it. Back then, and over the last two years. What had those ten years of freedom been for? His attempts at vengeance? Only to end up like this.

Smoker had found him, sandwiched between Doflamingo and Vergo in their cell, his head against Vergo's chest as if they were lovers. Kind of amusing considering all three of them still had chains wrapped around their torsos, pinning their arms to their bodies, and wore prison garb like a collection of licorice allsorts. The look Law passed his way was dead. Shamefaced, but dead. Law wished he'd been unconscious. He couldn't move from this position. Not now, not last night. He was shivering.

Smoker ordered his removal, Doflamingo and Vergo both shooting the marine looks.

"Everyone's got a price, White Chase," Doflamingo snarled, jostling close so the chains connected and rubbed against Law's as he was lifted. "It doesn't take much to buy Law, whore that he is, as pretty as he is. He'd do most things for no cost, despite any protestations, wouldn't you darlin'?"

Though he could barely move his hands, trussed up in a similar manner to Law, his giant fingers stretched as much as they could, implying what they would do if he was truly free: send his strings out to incapacitate all around him.

"And anyway, he's a slave. What right does he have to make decisions?"

Slave, eh? What was Doflamingo rambling about?

Law wouldn't keep anyone's eye as he was dragged out of the cell. The way they had fruit users chained meant they couldn't walk easily. The marines could easily separate him and Doflamingo due to the seastone weakening them, despite Doflamingo's efforts. Vergo didn't react. They pulled the Heart pirate along like a limp rag. The tops of his feet scraped on the concrete on occasion. He looked more defeated than yesterday, if it were possible. Smoker could guess at the white in his hair, on his clothes, on his face even.

There were nasty grazes on his cheek and forehead, the skin drawn back, black with dirt and dried blood. And his hand was bandaged. That would be Kizaru. He had a thing for fingernails. He'd interrogated Law after Smoker had finished questioning him yesterday. There went that manicure.

"He's used to it, you know, Smoker. It's a shame to not make use of his natural skills and talents. To develop them. To maintain them."

Neither Law, outside the cell, nor Smoker, still within, responded. Would Smoker now fuck him? Law wondered, dead inside. So dead inside.

Far from it. Smoker sent both Don Quixote pirates an annoyed glance, kept his face passive for Law. He didn't want to give any power to the other two prisoners. He still had a bone to pick with Doflamingo for the beating he gave him on Punk Hazard. He had almost killed him. Vergo hadn't been gentle either. But that was for another time.

Law was in a pretty repugnant state. Maybe the two Don Quixote pirates couldn't do much of anything to their subordinate while they were bound, but they could pay others to do it while they watched.

The young doctor inwardly recoiled at Doflamingo's words, and tried to stop the memory, still painfully fresh, of being on his knees and the marines lined up one after another to mouthfuck him outside of Doflamingo and Vergo's cell. His mouth was disgusting, his throat sore. Of course they came wherever they wished.

Being chained like this, kairoseki wrapped around him like a python, he couldn't stop a thing. He'd had to listen while they laughed. Did his best to remain silent, not answer their jibes, to stop his body from trembling. He would have loved nothing more than to have blocked his ears.

He'd known no good was in store from the second he heard keys turn in the lock of his cell. A group of marines had barged in and propelled him into the corridor in the deep of the night. The terror was familiar though. So familiar it was almost banal.

Maybe these were the same marines, yanking him along now, following Smoker's orders. He had no power. None. He didn't have the energy for defiance or pride, maybe not even for fear. He was done.

His prison trousers were loose. Looser than yesterday, and Law clutched them close to his thigh with his one good hand, as much as he was able, to prevent them from slipping down. The hems skirted the back of his heels, and it was just as well the chains forced the marines to haul him along the corridor. If he'd had to walk the length of it, his own feet probably would have dragged the clothing down. Just one more humiliation he didn't want to face.

They took him to Kureha, the older doctor. Chopper would have been thrilled, but Law hardly had the presence of mind to take that in. She ordered, rather than Smoker, which made it look better for the man, the shackles off after Smoker told her about the seastone chip.

Sitting in her surgery, Law was shirtless and filthy. She'd removed the shirt too, which was pretty cut up and torn. And stained. He sat there shivering in front of the consultation desk.

It was difficult for the prisoners to drink or eat when they were chained up like that. There were any and all methods of belittlement involved in feeding them. If they fed them. The doctor placed a glass of water in Law's hands. Staring at nothing, he continued to hold it between his hands as he drank, the one with bandages curling with difficulty.

Kureha sat down to his right and Smoker remained standing. After finishing the water, and placing the glass on the desk, Law, with a small sound of pain, brought his long legs up to his chest so he was huddled into them, his back curving away from the seat, his tattooed arms and his drawn knees hiding his chest tattoo. Kureha noted he treated the bandaged hand gingerly.

Smoker took in the criss-cross marks he associated with Doflamingo's powers on his arms. Older scars. With Law's powers suppressed, they were now scars he couldn't heal. Smoker saw a hint of the new tattoo, a brand? on the hipline. Law gave one word answers when required.

The medical was necessary. Law knew that as a doctor, but what could they really do? No matter how much they swabbed him, took DNA specimens, established that yes, his anus was fucking ripped and torn to pieces, they wouldn't go after the marines. It'd be a miracle if he hadn't contracted something.

And regarding the marines there was nothing they had done that was worse than Vergo and Doflamingo, but it didn't mean that he didn't still hate every bone-rattling moment of it. In those chains he couldn't move whatsoever, couldn't support himself.

He could kneel though, having to use their fucking legs and body to avoid falling flat on his fucking face. When they'd tired of his mouth they'd pushed him to the floor. He had no way of bracing himself. His hands and arms were tucked to his sides under the chains.

They could lift his lower body though and they did, but his upper body, his face slid and scraped across the concrete floor as they fucking ripped him apart, so one prick placed a boot on his head to stop the motion. Maybe it was an improvement. He had just wanted to die, wanted to die now. His neck killed him.

They laughed, and grunted, cursed and spat at him. Of course they did. Their hands and mouths all over him. Their bodies. Oh the glee he knew Vergo and Doflamingo were getting out of this, even if they couldn't really see properly.

Well, Vergo was less-constrained. Probably sat up and gave the pink-feathered bastard a blow by blow account, helped Doffy to sit even. He could hear their voices. When had he _ever_ done anything anywhere near similar to anyone?

The marines used nothing, too, or their own fucking cum scraped off his body to prepare him. As his body tore open, his blood worked as lubricant. It didn't ease the pain, though Doflamingo and Vergo had put him to such regular use that he had methods, even at times of stress, to try and relax to avoid further damage.

Everyone has a price, right? To do what? It didn't seem that anyone needed too much convincing that he was worth less than the shit on the bottom of their shoes. That he deserved to be treated as such.

Still, he was grateful that Kureha, the doctor, let him shower, and gave him clean clothes once she'd finished her examination, and now he was in the small infirmary that adjoined her office.

She'd seen to where Kizaru had burned off his nails too, re-bandaged his hand. She disinfected and dressed the grazes on his face. Of course if he had his ability, didn't have the seastone cuff in, or hadn't been shackled, he could have healed himself. All of his injuries were permanent of late, for the last two years, like that damn brand.

Kureha and Smoker had consulted together, and put some of Tashigi's men on the door. The woman, Tashigi, Smoker's protégé hated him, because he was a pirate, and he _had_ cut her in half that one time, but she was loyal to Smoker. Kureha pulled in Tsuru. A vice-admiral who had some sway with the admirals, but a little more integrity than the majority of the current crop. She'd been on Doflamingo's case for a long time, and the older doctor didn't want Kizaru near Law.

Basically Law had no loyalty to Doflamingo, so torturing him was only for Kizaru's own enjoyment and, as a doctor, Kureha hated to see a body wrecked like that. Especially a doctor's body. Kizaru ultimately outranked them, but their efforts kept Law safe from Doflamingo and the admiral for a short time at least. Though Law had no real faith in that.

They cuffed him to the bed, but it wasn't seastone. He guessed if he got that chip out of his ear somehow – he wouldn't be beyond gouging it out – he could fix himself once his abilities regenerated, then maybe he'd be a force to be reckoned with.

The whole compound was seastone, but there were enough fruit users amongst the marines that there must have been a few safe spots here and there. It weakened him so much, that he didn't know if he'd have the energy, or if he would regain his own powers fast enough. The seastone had been in his bloodstream for two years now.

They'd currently chained both hands to either side of the bed, he'd done his business before sleeping, but what about water, circulation? He was uncomfortable on his back with his injuries. On his side would have been preferable. Lying on his stomach and chained would have scared the fuck out of him, but would have been less painful.

He'd have argued in favour of one long chain – either leg or foot. He'd learnt many years ago that his opinion didn't count for much in the face of authority. If it had been Doflamingo, the chain would be around his freaking neck, but he guessed even that allowed too much freedom of movement. They really didn't know how broken he was. However, it was better than the previous night's arrangement for sure.

He still felt vulnerable, lying on the bed, restrained as he was, even if it was on his back, but that was nothing new. That was the design. Even so, he'd been tired and trusted that Smoker could keep those fuckers away – at least he wanted to believe it – that is, until he woke up now, deep into the night.

Someone was in the room. He stilled himself. Didn't open his eyes yet in case they were looking at him directly, until he could figure out, friend or foe? There wasn't a whole lot he could do anyway, but if they didn't know he was awake, maybe they'd leave, or however they were going to assault him would be a silent, opportunistic affair that he'd pretend to sleep through, absent of the punches, slaps, insults and jeers that would accompany it if they knew he was awake. Absent of his forced compliance. Though it would be forced. And he would comply even though the chances of his body being able to take it were slim.

"Law."


	3. Chapter 3 - Captured, Captive, Smoker

**A/N** : Smoker offers hope.

 **Warning** Non-Consensual suggestion, Language, Disturbing content

* * *

 **Chapter 3** – Captured/Captive/ Smoker

* * *

 **Chapter 3** – Captured/Captive/ Smoker

* * *

Smoker's voice was welcome. Law had trained himself so that anything like the exhalation indicating he'd allowed himself to breathe again went unnoticed, but he _did_ allow himself to breathe again. He opened his eyes.

"Smoker."

What was the man doing in his room at this time of night? What time of night was it, really? Law was pretty disoriented. Could he relax? Was the room bugged, monitored? He figured it would be. Smoker came near, looming over the bed, and Law's breath quickened, but he didn't close his eyes, wanting to know what would happen, even if it wasn't good. He drilled his body not to react, not to jerk when he felt Smoker's hand on his wrist, though his nerves were racing.

After Doflamingo and Vergo, wouldn't he be over that shit? Maybe it indicated he still had some connection to humanity, to his emotions. Schooling himself into stillness meant they never got the satisfaction of knowing just how deeply his terror ran. Death would be better than being constantly fucked over like this.

But Smoker must have sensed something. "I'm not going to hurt you, Law."

He'd heard that one before. But it was true. Smoker pulled out the key to the cuffs and released his hands. Either side. Why? So he could force him to hold him, to participate? Law had agency if he had his hands free at least, for whatever was going to follow. He scrambled up, as much as he could in this state, so that he sat up against the wall. He eased his hands, twisted them to loosen them from where they'd been held tight. He drew his knees up to his chest. Pain shot through his body. The seastone chip rendered him useless for the most part.

"May I?"

Why did the marine bother asking? How could Law stop him? Why was he pretending? Even so, Law nodded and Smoker sat on the edge of the bed, his muscular body making it sink somewhat, and he then pushed himself up against the wall so that both men sat against the wall along the longer length of the bed. The marine-grade trimming that Law had been shackled to, was recessed along the side of the bed, so it was no obtrusion. Smoker had a small flashlight, a notepad, and he scribbled a message on it that he passed to Law. Law took it with hesitation. Wondering when the vice admiral would make his move. He smelt of cigars, a day's worth of perspiration. Smoker noted Law used the hand that had the nails pulled. He had a bit of difficulty holding the paper.

 _Room's bugged. Monitored. Gonna talk trash. Notes have the real message_.

Law looked across at Smoker and nodded so slightly so whatever surveillance there was wouldn't detect it. He figured Smoker blocked his real actions for the most part so that the video, wherever it was, didn't pick it up. He seemed to also block the light spilling from the small torch.

 _What happened, Law?_ He passed the note and a pen.

"Pirate scum," he hissed, standing up. "What're the Don Quixote family planning? What shit are you guys dreaming up?" It sounded lame, even to him, and Law didn't bother replying. He was known for his reticence after all.

 _I'm broken. They broke me. Nothing left. They won't stop. Kizaru won't. Death - a f-relief_. Thoughts dour, Law realised that his moniker was perhaps fitting nowadays, from a personal standpoint. The surgeon that seeks his own death.

He let out a snarl for the surveillance. Some moonlight spilled into the room, and Smoker noticed, not for the first time, how protective, how withdrawn, how wary Law's whole body language was. Well, it was always like that, but without his fruit ability at hand, without his nodachi, he was just so fragile. So wounded and feral. He kept writing. Geez. Smoker didn't expect an essay.

 _I_ _said weak don't get to choose how 2 die. Arrogant. Parroting Doflamingo. I get no choice, but don't want 2 be executed as Quixote pirate. Don't want assoc. in any way._

Law imagined swinging from a noose on the same platform as his tormentors. He was notorious enough that there'd be a show. Let me die separately. Let me die as a Heart pirate, as captain of my own ship. Not as a fucking subordinate, a fucking submissive to Doflamingo. My life was more than that. Or was it?

Smoker pulled him up by the loose material of the shirt Kureha had found for him. Was it for show or for real? Smoker and he had a bit of history. Now was the perfect time to go in for a kiss. Law put his hands against Smoker's to brace himself. Instead the marine slapped him across the face, and though it made a loud, stinging noise, Law could tell that he'd not put all his strength into it.

"Why don't you just change into haki form and show what you're really made of?" Law growled, as expected. Smoker shook him.

A note was passed his way. Got _to get you out. Strawhat contacted_. Law looked down at the note, a hand on Smoker's supposed grip around his throat, and he felt a surge of relief that Luffy was still alive. His eyes sought out Smoker's, as much as he could in the moonlight, and he saw it was true.

Smoker ploughed a fist into his gut, and that one actually hurt.

"Easy, Smoker," he panted, and Smoker expressed his apology through a grimace.

"The weak don't get to choose, Law." And he pulled Law's black hair backwards. He brought his own face in close, looking like he was going in for the kill, along with every other fucking pervert in this joint.

Law recoiled, but also trainined himself to yield, not sure what was going on. Smoker came in close and whispered by his ear, "We'll help transport you out of here. Tashigi and I – permission from Kureha and Tsuru – will organise it. You'll be hooded, Law. It will be sudden. We don't know when. Prepare yourself."

Smoker knew how terrifying those midnight renditions were. He punched Law for effect, in the stomach again, and the younger man doubled over, thinking about the last time, hardly a day ago, that he'd been hauled from his cell in the middle of the night. Smoker pulled him up again, before he could get his breath. Leaning in close, whispering again, "The convoy will be intercepted. The Strawhats will intervene."

Smoker had a connection with Luffy that he'd never had with the Heart crew. Law looked at him, in pain. The marines had worked him over the night before. But also in puzzlement, a tinge of hope. Luffy was alive. But he knew that already. He felt relief. Why? The expression on Smoker's face. Why help him? The vice admiral was still close, and he rested his head against Law's own. Just for a second. The cameras wouldn't be able to distinguish. Law felt the warmth, the protection, as he had before, when he'd been free. The few moments stolen. A pirate and a marine as lovers was never going to work out, after all.

"You don't deserve this, Law," he said so quietly, "You're a prick, but you don't deserve what Doflamingo, Kizaru, have done," and Law had to stop his slender fingers from rising and touching Smoker's face. Instead, he let out a yell as if Smoker had hit him hard, and gripped the man's shirt, allowing his hand to flatten on his chest. Pressing firmly. Smoker could just take him, as Kizaru was bound to, but he didn't want to. The marines would laugh at his degradation as they monitored the tapes, for sure.

"Get your hands off me, you filthy fuck," the vice-admiral growled, wrenching Law's hand away, or appearing too. One hand returned the pressure on the balled up fist, and Law allowed himself a small, fleeting smile, that Smoker picked up on in the half light. Both men locked eyes for a second. Smoker then threw Law on the bed and chained him up again.

"Toilet," the pirate croaked.


	4. Chapter 4 - Captured, Captive, Kizaru

**A/N** Smoker offered hope, Kizaru takes it away

Warning Graphic Non-Consensual suggestion, Language, Disturbing content

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – Kizaru**

* * *

Kizaru was a bona fide bastard. Well, there were a lot of them, but Kizaru was up there with Doflamingo. He was more powerful than that freak, just. Whereas Doflamingo was interested in torture and revenge, sadistic fuck that he was, Kizaru was just boredly interested in hurting anyone he thought went against the code of the World Government, as it was written down, as he was asked to carry it out – not from any general or personal moral code. As such, Law was a pirate and an enemy of state.

As with many of the admirals, he had height on him. At 1.94cm, Law was tall. Kizaru had a metre on him. And at the moment he was blocking the infirmary doorway as Law looked down at the rise of his own chest, hands chained to either side of his bed, in an effort to quell his fear. Man, the stripes of that tunic could do your head in.

His fingers ached, because of course they hadn't healed, and in reaction to Kizaru having used his power to remove the nails. A few steps brought him to the side of the bed. Law was cut up from the assault he'd endured two nights ago as well, and was lying on the abused area with no real way of moving to get any real relief from the pressure. Maybe he could talk the admiral into releasing him and letting him get up and relieve himself, though would he want to do that with him in the room? He'd only proved himself a bastard, not a degenerate yet.

He knew how to make him uncomfortable though. He towered over the bed, and his gaze ran up and down Law's body. No blankets. Or there were, but how the fuck was he to cover himself tied like this? Law kept his gaze now. It was wiser at times, even though they could fuck with you. You maybe had some idea of what they were up to.

"Looking better, I see, Trafalgar Law," Kizaru said in that overly polite and curious voice of his. As if he were boredly interested in the anomaly that was in front of him, amazed that it somehow existed, was alive. That common decency hadn't taken him out yet. "You were able to clean all that nasty ejaculate out of your hair, from your face, your clothes, even. I'm pleased, it wouldn't be pleasant to have to touch you or talk to you if you were still covered in it."

Just like that. An innocent comment. Right? As effective as a blow to the gut.

He noticed that Kizaru focused on his lips. Law had to turn his face. Eye contact and protecting himself be damned. His face darkened and coloured. His breath shallowed, but that had also happened when the admiral had stepped into the room. It quickened now though. Kizaru was observant. He would discern the change.

"They did a sterling job of grinding . . . liquefying . . . " and here he took a hold of Law's chin, and turned his head so it faced him, then put one of his fingers on Law's lips, pressed together tightly. Vergo and Doffy loved to mouthfuck him with their fingers. Kizaru channelled the light he wielded as a weapon through those fingers. Law felt a slight tingling, ". . . your self-esteem into a puddle of sewage now, didn't they?"

He lifted his finger away, brushed it slightly across the two gauzes on his face. Noticed Law's slight tremor. He noticed it. Oh, thought Law, that fucking cess-pit of self-esteem. Could it go any lower? He guessed it could. He couldn't reflect on the scene with the marines without his stomach curdling.

Kizaru pulled up a chair to the side of the bed, its legs scraping over the concrete. "But, when one is effluent, how can it diminish, Law? Hmm? How can one even have a sense of self?" He bent in closer, and pushed Law's spiky black hair away from his forehead, played with the earrings in the earlobe nearest him for a second. The man was massive. The feel of his fingers on his skin, intrusive.

"Why do these things only happen to you, Law? You must ask yourself that, over and over. Sure, there are other bitches in prison, but they're not supernovas, they're not former shichibukai, they're not one of the most wanted pirates in the new world. They're weak, craven men. Are you craven, Law? Something tells me you might be. We have the evidence, after all. So very _submissive_."

Law stared ahead as much as he could, or up. Restricted to lying on his back, there was only so much scenery that came into view. The roof above, the strip of light that came in through the barred window. Don't react. Don't internalise. Don't believe their toxic words. It was hard. He heard them so often.

"Doflamingo and Vergo, they say you're willing. The marines – oh yes – we know who some of them are. They all say you can't get enough. That you like being trussed up and treated like that. They're doing you a favour really, aren't they, giving you what you want?"

Law let out a small growl. It was involuntary. He hadn't meant to give Kizaru anything. The giant leant in. Law could smell his coffee breath.

"I hear it started from such an early age, Law. That's why you excel. Did you initiate it? Is it your true nature?"

Law closed his eyes and shook his head. No. How could they ever put that kind of travesty on a child's head? Even one as screwed up as he'd been. No, no, no. And he'd hurt people, but never that way.

Just his luck. The hand with the bandages was the one closest to Kizaru. The admiral took it now, gently, and looked at his handiwork. Even a soft touch caused pain.

"We will hang you, Law, and we'll hang you with them, and we'll make it known that you were the consort, the willing consort, of Doflamingo and Vergo. Because you were, are, aren't you? I don't know why Kureha, Smoker or Tsuru want you here. You'd be happier back in that cell, wouldn't you? It would certainly stop those two from getting restless. You are their favourite, after all." He pressed on one of the fingers, and Law drew in a sharp breath.

He knew he was giving Kizaru power but if he didn't say it, it might never change, if there was ever a chance for it to change he had to ask.

"Don't . . ." and his breath shuddered again, as the admiral thought he was talking about his fingernails, and pressed down again. "Don't hang us together. Take me out back and shoot me like a dog if you have to, but I escaped Doflamingo a long time ago."

"And then you re-joined them, didn't you Law? The Don Quixote crew? We were all surprised. You did it as an adult, after being away for so many years." He eyed where Law moved uncomfortably on the bed. Really, he had to be in a lot of pain.

Law shook his head. "Captured. He recaptured me."

"How disloyal. He reclaimed his slave, I think, Law. He was entitled. You did challenge him after all. You and Strawhat caused quite the mess. And a slave should die with his master, don't you think? Plus, you committed heinous crimes."

The words cut deeply, and Kizaru saw the anger and sorrow, but mostly Law's face was blank, not inviting.

"I had heinous crimes committed against me. I've been chipped since they got me. I don't have the power to commit heinous anything."

He wanted to stretch his legs. To test his legs. When was the last time he'd been free to walk outside? Even with the Family he had some freedom of movement. Doflamingo and Vergo wanted him aesthetically pleasing, so they kept up an exercise regime. Made sure he was groomed when they were in the mood. It made breaking him down all the more pleasurable. Law's sense of self-preservation, when he had it, saw the first as a good idea too. The second meant he got the occasional bath.

Kizaru pulled down the elastic of Law's trousers so that they exposed the hip bone. Just below it sat the new brand, the new mark, the Don Quixote jolly roger with that strike-through bright red. Kizaru placed his hand on it, palm flat, again, Law felt that electric charge, and Kizaru felt him flinch.

"Doflamingo's property, wouldn't you say, Law? That's his slave's brand."

Law clamped his jaw. He'd cover his eyes if he could lift his arm that far. You try it, he thought, you just try being regarded as a thing, a possession, and then tell me how you should just roll over and accept what's thrown at you.

Kizaru sat back, hmmed. Left the brand uncovered. "No heinous crimes you, say, eh?"

Not in comparison, thought Law. There was no way he'd ever hurt a child as an adult, as someone physically stronger. Even the pirates and men he'd stolen hearts from had a chance to fight. True, they weren't all devil fruit users, so he wasn't saying that the fights were fair, but they were quick. It's never pleasant to have your heart removed, he got that, but they didn't lose their lives, the hearts could always be returned. If others tortured them, that wasn't his doing. Not directly.

"Akainu feels very strongly about you, Law."

Law looked over. Swallowed.

"Ah, now I have your attention. You humiliated him, Law. He's the fleet admiral now, you know. Benn Beckman held a gun to my head to let you escape with Strawhat. Why did you do that, Law? To humiliate me? Why did you take Dragon's son? Was your purpose to embarrass Akainu? That Whitebeard scum, Marco, fought him before Strawhat and Jinbei escaped. You know the fleet admiral believes in absolute justice. Will _not_ tolerate any tainted blood out there."

It felt like decades ago to Law that his submarine and skill as a doctor, had saved Jinbei and Luffy's lives after Marineford.

"You killed the people of Flevance," Law growled. "My mother, father, sister. All the kids in my year at school. My teacher, a nun, for fuck's sake. Gunned them all down for a non-contagious disease, which could have been treated if you hadn't created hysteria in order to line your pockets. The World Government is responsible for heinous crimes, it protects heinous people, and I'd never seen or heard of Strawhat Luffy misusing and abusing his power in the way that the government does. What humiliation did you or Akainu ever suffer?"

"Flevance, hmm?" Kizaru stroked his chin. Maybe they would absolutely have to take Law out. But if they could make him use his fruit power, that would be a weapon worth having.

Law closed his eyes for a second, remembering everyone he'd lost in his life. Including Doflamingo's brother, Cora-san. The man had nurtured him in his own strange way, after Law had barged his way into Doflamingo's pirate family as a very angry ten-year old. The young boy the only survivor of Flevance that he knew of.

When Law was thirteen, Doflamingo had fatally shot his own brother in front of Law after Cora had stolen the devil's fruit which saved his life. The clumsy man had hoped Law would escape, but it took him another three years before he did so. He survived the disease though.

"Well you see, Law, white monster, hmm? The World Government _is_ the law, and you _broke_ the law, and you _continue_ to break the law, and as such, you need to be pay the price. Were you ever really human to begin with?

"Flevance explains a lot. Death, of course, is inevitable. Doflamingo has been a great help to us across the years, and Vergo was playing two sides of the field, but the marines who knew him are loyal to him."

Law recalled the fists of either of the men Kizaru lightly praised, their mouths on his, them ripping him apart when he was younger, without a fucking care, and now, when he was older, same thing. Vergo had almost killed Cora san before Doflamingo actually did, and Cora was the one who betrayed pirates, not the marines. That was Vergo. Akainu valued men like that over men like him?

And there was Kizaru echoing the words of the doctors Cora had taken him to before they got the fruit. _White monster_. They chased them from their hospitals, refusing to even look at Law.

Law wouldn't buy it. It had taken a long time to regard himself as human, and he still had trouble doing so when his interior dialogue was populated with people like Doflamingo and Vergo, but Cora had given him a chance. He'd fought very hard to take to it. He wasn't the nicest person in the world. Far from it. But he wasn't the demon they painted him to be either. He was nowhere near as barbaric as those who labelled him. Who kept him.

"Hmm, well Law, perhaps those two are deserving of a pardon, and what if part and parcel of that was using them to deliver the ultimate mortification to you, publicly broadcast to the whole world, at the hands, or should I say dicks, of Doflamingo and Vergo? I'm sure they'd be into it, as long as they could be mostly clothed. On the other hand, you would not have the same option."

Law looked over at him, incredulous.

"Those tattoos shouldn't be hidden, after all."

There was no way in hell the government was going to show its underbelly to the general public, even if that underbelly was wrongly and wholly placed on his head. The man had to be riling him up.

"I can imagine it would be quite the sight. In fact, maybe it would be wiser to make it a closed audience. Your pirate mates, whatever band they're on could watch, we'd stream it to them. The marines, all ranks, all files, they could watch. It might be too disturbing for mum and dad at home."

Kizaru sat back with a smile, imagining it. He pulled an emery board from his pocket and tidied up his nails, glancing at Law's lack of same. He wasn't really that into the scenario, but if it went through, Law would not be granted any dignity ever, not even in death. This is what he'd be remembered for. That potential further loss of dignity amused him.

"Your punishment would serve as an example for the other slaves not to rebel, not to get above their station. It would tell the pirates that this is what happens when you cross the marines, particularly Fleet Commander Akainu. It would let all the whores out there know that they'll die just as they lived. Any friends you might have among the crews out there would see for themselves just how worthless you are. They'd see you for what you are, the truth for what it is. Just how agreeable, how willing, how capable you were. Because you wouldn't collapse, would you Law? You'd manage. They'd see it all. A captain? When you were a slave?"

His smile showed how preposterous that was. He blew across his nails, and tucked the file into his top pocket.

"That would be your legacy. No-one would talk of anything else for years. It would be in the history books. It would be a warning against loose morals for men and women alike. In fact, everyone would doubt your motives and actions in saving Monkey D. Luffy, in having an alliance with him."

" _What_?" Law asked quietly, sickened. Kizaru's smile didn't break – a non-committal line of smugness.

"We'd have you up on the execution platform, you see." He spoke as if he were chatting about the weather. One hand cupped his chin, his fingers constantly stroking his jawline as he spoke. "You'd be chained, and naked of course. Those beautiful tattoos on display. We'd have a lovely kairoseki ring around that delicate neck of yours." Kizaru's eyes ran along Law's body again. "This," – again he touched the brand – "We'd make sure we had a close up. We'd use it as a public service announcement, as said.

"We'd make sure you were on your knees. No, on all fours, side on at the front of the stage, perhaps? Maybe Akainu could whip you . . ."

" _Stop_. Why don't you keep your jerk-off fantasies for your alone time?"

Kizaru enjoyed seeing the flush on Law's cheeks, the anger in his eyes, and the tiredness, the frustrated curl of his fingers. The government had been known for worse. Law couldn't dismiss his talk as mere talk when men like Doflamingo made him live it on a daily basis.

"Shh. Don't fret. You'll enjoy it. As said, there could be whipping before, but we wouldn't want the fanboys to get too excited, though I'd like to see you pay in pain for your crimes. Then we'd just have Doflamingo and Vergo come out and pound into you for the cameras, and for the audience, for all they're worth. Your arse, not your abdomen. It could be like a documentary. _Wild pirates in the wild_. Maybe we could even play some of the CCTV footage from the other night in the background, or I'm sure Doflamingo has reels and reels of your behaviour back in the mansion, right, Law? Bet you thought you'd never get caught. Or was that the thrill of it?"

Law blanched, and looked away.

"We probably wouldn't have them mouth fuck you. Well, we might. Akainu couldn't really do that and keep his respectability in public, but we'd have him visit your cage beforehand. You had a little taste of that the night before, didn't you, Love? You managed quite well." He leant over, his face so close Law could feel his breath. He pulled back with pursed lips as he read the panic and anger in the captive's eyes.

" _Then_ we'd shoot you, hang you, behead you. Impale your head on a pike. Whichever works. It'd be quite the perfect way to finish your contemptible life, and to drive home your true value, Law." He squeezed tight on those fingers again.

"Wouldn't that be lovely?" the admiral hissed as Law let out a shout of pain.

Kizaru was pleased to see how flustered, angry and yes, scared – oh, and was that shame? Yep – Law was. He exuded helplessness. All those feelings emanating from the pathetic pirate. As if it would happen, but it could happen. It could definitely happen in private.

Eyes closed, Law spoke. His voice was surprisingly steady, though exasperated. "Akainu's pride took a beating, and rather than go after the men who have imprisoned townships, manipulated devil fruits for emperors' armies, imprisoned and experimented on kids, raped and murdered kids and adults, you go after me because I saved Strawhat Luffy?"

Law let out a done and spent exhalation. He didn't think he had that many left. "Did you get off on that, Kizaru? Is it your turn now? Get it over and fucking done with. I can't fight back. All of you make me sick to my back teeth."

"Hmm." Law felt Kizaru's large hand land in his crotch area, just resting there, then his fingers curled slightly, and cupped Law's dick. His eyes flew open.

"Tempting . . . Back teeth, you say? I'd rather put those to use. Enticing images, Trafalgar. You really are a pro, but it's not really my thing. I'll tell Akainu that you're up for some discipline though, shall I?" and he once more leant close to Law's face, the pirate's eyes closed again. He knew Law would have moved well away if he could have. Kizaru ran the back of his finger across his skin. Pressed lightly into the graze on his cheek, causing the younger man's lip to rise in a sneer of discomfort.

"We'll let you get up and shave and wash up soon. He'll want you looking peachy." He put his fingers through Law's hair, and Law knew Kizaru wouldn't be able to resist jerking him up, as he did. Again, he let out a breath of pain. Then the admiral dropped him, and he was grateful for the pillow. He had no way of bracing the fall, the contact. Fortunately, he couldn't be lifted too high while he was shackled, but Kizaru could lift him high enough for Law to think he could possibly break his neck or back. He was strong.

"Don't mess with the marines, Law. Don't get caught by them." He stood and walked to the door, and watched as the pirate try to regain his composure, eyes still closed. He hadn't really lost that much. That was impressive, but Kizaru knew he had rattled him. He rested against the door architrave.

"Toodle loo, Law. We'll have to have this kind of tête-à-tête again. It's been a delight." He smiled at the grimace he saw cross the chained man's face, and the slight shake in his body. That brand was still laid bare.

* * *

 **oOOo**

* * *

Tashigi entered the room as Kizaru exited. Her man had contacted her as soon as the admiral had powered his way into the room. There was no way that she or her men could stand up to him, but she could check on what was happening.

"Filthy pirate's exposed himself," he commented as he pushed past her, his voice as always, disinterested. "Take care of it."

She adjusted her glasses and nodded. Not on her watch, she thought. Whereas she'd been somewhat concerned for Law before – sure, he'd fucked them around on Punk Hazard, but had also saved them, and helped out the kids – now she bristled. As she thought, give an inch and a pirate will take a mile, and probably just because she was a woman. They always pushed it, the vermin. She bustled in, noticed the skin on display, but didn't really notice it was only Law's hip line, or that his agitated expression wasn't one of pleasure or even guilty pleasure.

"Law. Cover yourself. Where's your decency?"

He looked over at her with one eye open, but said nothing. Decency? The motherfuckers. He knew that Kizaru had played her. He shook his hands where they were chained.

"Tashigi-ya, how can I do anything?" he growled.

She looked down, unsure. She leant across and pulled up the band of his trousers so they covered the revealing flesh. She was blushing, and angry. Of course he could have played that, but he didn't. That was surprising.

"Can't help yourself, Law? Cheap shot, same as all the other pricks who think they can get under my skin?"

There were a million double entendre but Law didn't snarl them. He closed his eyes again with a scowl, and once more shook the chains. He was relieved not to have his brand on display anymore, but felt infantilised that Tashigi had to cover him up. Her gaze went to the chains again. Even if Kizaru had released Law and Law had put his skin on show to fuck with them, it was Kizaru who had left him like that, to embarrass them both. And was that a brand? Her mind went back to the ink she'd seen. Doflamingo's brand. More noticeable than ever with the red strike in it. In fact, was that the brand he reserved for his slaves?

She took in a breath, and Law looked at her one more time. Law hated Doflamingo and there was no pirate, no person, no-one who was Trafalgar Law who could handle the ignominy of being a slave without incurring a deep-rooted wish for freedom and revenge.

Kizaru had humiliated him. It's what he did, what he was good at. Tashigi got the keys and undid the cuffs. She could hear one of her men in the other room, and Doctor Kureha was at her desk. He sat up, but not as quickly as he would have liked. He could only lie in one position with the cuffs. His arms had gone to sleep. His body was in pain. He had the seastone chip. He was as weak as a kitten. Why the fuck did they have to do this? He turned his wrists, shook his arms, tried to stretch out.

"Wash up," Tashigi looked down at the schedule on her clipboard. "Dr Kureha will see you in half an hour."

Law hoped there would be food, though anxiety was his overriding emotion, and had been for the last two years. And dread. Not with Kureha though. He moved to the edge of the bed. His legs were shaky, but it felt good to have some movement, even if it was impeded by his injuries. He took a moment to adjust to the pain, his head resting in his hands, and then made himself stand up with a sharp inhalation. Tashigi didn't quake at his height. Especially not with how crushed he was at the moment. And compared to half of the marines, he was a pipsqueak.

 _Weaklings don't get to choose_ , Tashigi thought, echoing the cruel words Law had used on her, and he saw it in her eyes, was grateful she hadn't said anything as he made his slow way to the shower, the bathroom. He'd shave. Kureha trusted him to do that. Strange. He idly thought of gouging the chip out with the blade, but it was a disposable razor, and the result would be messy.

And what had Smoker's words meant? Luffy was alive and the vice-admiral was in touch with him?


	5. Chapter 5 - Captured, Captive, Akainu

A/N: Warning: Suggestions of rape/non-consensual sex, Language, Mature content, Disturbing content

* * *

Chapter 5: Captured/ Captive/ Akainu

* * *

That felt better, so much better. To be able to clean himself relatively normally. To not have to scrape at and wash away the remains of other men's waste, and just to stand to stretch, to have a few meditative moments. There was a small mirror. He shaved, and wondered when he'd next get a haircut. It was the least of his worries. He'd get Kureha to look at his hands. He could see blood spotting through the dressing. He'd had very little sleep. It had been cold. Maybe they'd let him curl up with a blanket, hands free, and catch up? Fat chance. There were interrogations to be had.

Would the grunt on the door let him into the clinic? The doctor in him wanted to take in Kureha's supplies, itched to diagnose, to help someone that way. He saw the three of them, Tashigi, Kureha and Smoker gathered around the doctor's main desk. A tray of food sat on its edge and he hoped it was for him.

The man on the door jumped a little at Law's presence as he sensed it behind him. Law stepped back, lifted his hands to indicate that he wasn't a threat. The young marine looked a bit panicked at said free hands, and pushed his gun into Law's chest to make it known that the pirate better go back to the room, sit on bed and wait until he was spoken to. Fuck that for a joke, but the dark haired man wasn't completely stupid. He wandered back into the room he'd slept in, fighting the urge to flip the grunt off, sat on the mattress, and then called out Smoker's name. The white-haired man looked up briefly and indicated to the guard to bring him through.

Law wasn't shackled, but he knew not to impede the power hierarchies. He couldn't remove or survive a close-range bullet when he didn't have his powers. He remained on the edge of the mattress so the marine could march into the room, grip and strong-arm him into the clinic. He could tell his cronies later how pliable the Surgeon of Death was, how he was all bluff.

Law stood in the main room, waiting instruction, Smoker merely looked up, indicated a spare chair, the desk, the food. Law hadn't eaten for some time and he sat down with thanks, ate quickly before it could be taken away, in the way that those with inconsistent parenting or protection often did. He'd pay for it, he thought, if Akainu or Kizaru questioned him later. But now he needed the sustenance, no matter how lacking in flavour or resemblance to anything really edible the food was. He left the bread roll.

Kureha noted the spotting through the bandages, and the fact that Law handled the utensils with that hand a little more delicately. That was understandable, but especially having been chained, there was no real explanation for the bleeding.

"Kizaru visited you," she said, lifted the hand, at present, unused. Even that slight touch sent a recoil through his body. "He held your hand?"

They both knew it was an understatement. Law had a mouthful of food, two-thirds of his plate finished, and nodded quickly in her direction. He followed the food down with the cup of green tea, wondered if there was more. He swallowed and spoke.

"He was afraid I was lonely."

Kureha tcched. "Anywhere else?" She scanned visible surfaces for bruises, worried about Law's digestion process, eating so quickly, though she saw it with most of the men who came in. Law shook his head. All the torture had been psychological this morning. Tashigi thought of the brand.

Kureha was changing the bandages, applying a salve, Law gratefully on his second cup of tea – it came from Kureha's own supply – when the atmosphere in the room positively crackled as an immense man towered through the room. Akainu. Law looked down and Kureha could feel his body tremble, even if it wasn't immediately apparent. Hell, Akainu made her tremble, and she was scared of no-one. But she knew he wasn't there for her.

"You're not having him, Sakazuki." She continued to dress Law's fingers and didn't look at him. "Borsalino's already left his calling card."

Akainu took up the room and stood in front of Law's chair.

"Kizaru told him to expect me, didn't he Law? Trafalgar Law?"

Law turned and looked up at him, his expression guarded. This man felt Law had humiliated him, apparently, by saving Strawhat Luffy. What an operation that had been. Akainu had really messed the young boy up. He guessed Akainu had his eye on Buggy, Hancock, anyone who helped Luffy escape. It was Law's submarine which had outrun Aokiji's ice strike though, not Akainu's – that man was magma – and it was his and his crew's skill which had ensured Luffy kept breathing, though Strawhat's own fierce will did the rest. Law didn't regret it, even now. Let this goddamned corrupted system change, even if it meant he wouldn't live to see it.

"He said you were cross with me," Law said, no inflection.

Smoker smiled inwardly. There it was. The spark, the sass, though not the wisest choice to use it against the fleet admiral. Akainu eyed him up and his foot shot out and the chair disappeared from under Law. Kureha, still dressing his hand, pressed down at the sudden action instead of letting go, and Law cried out in a shock of pain. His hair flew up and his head hit the table leg as he landed. He remained quiet and stayed on the floor. This man could burn a hole in him.

Kureha was in front of Akainu again. "He's not healed."

"We don't want him healed, doctor. We want him to go to his death as broken as possible, an example to all."

Law pushed himself up into a sitting position. Akainu gave Dr. Kureha a withering glance, and then squatted on the floor so he was closer to the pirate. He still towered over him. Law forced himself not to back away.

"We might not have Monkey D Luffy, but we have Trafalgar D Water Law, and when he's executed it won't be without pain and indignity." Akainu pulled at the younger doctor's hair and his breath hitched. "Kizaru told you of our little plan? Why don't we put some of that into practice now?"

Law pulled his hair out of Akainu's grasp, and propelled himself across the floor, his fingers be damned, scuttling like a crab, and stopping when he ran into the wall behind him, near the entrance way to the infirmary. Smoker noted the nauseous look. What had transpired this morning?

A roar of laughter echoed across the room, and Akainu strode over to Law. It took two steps at the most. He easily lifted him. Holding him by the shirtfront up to his own face, Law's feet were off the ground.

"What's the matter, little bird?" He used Doflamingo's pet name. "You believed us?" Law's shirt had ridden up, and everyone got a good look of the brand, those toned abs. How had he kept them up in captivity? He placed Law on the ground and raised the shirt further while Law growled. Akainu tugged the elastic of the prison trousers below the hip line. He pinned Law against the wall and trailed the brand.

"What's this brand, Tashigi?"

"Don Quixote Pirates, sir."

"Well done." He smiled at her and returned to Law, angry, frightened and pale under his grip, though he seemed calm, but his skittering over the office proved he was anything but. He knew his hand on Law's neck restricted his breathing.

"And you, Smoker, it's not just the pirate brand, is it?"

"No, Sir. It's a slave brand."

Akainu tipped Law's face again, holding his chin. "Hmm, so a slave, an escaped slave, saved Monkey D Luffy? A man owned by another. Someone else's property has the audacity to save the impure. That threat to the world?"

His hands returned to holding down the loose trousers and pushing up the shirt. Law's eyes were desperate for a moment, and then he couldn't give a fuck. He just let everything, all tension expel. It wasn't like he'd chosen this for himself. It had been implanted upon him. Who would choose this?

"But it's not just any slave brand, is it, Law?"

Law felt Akainu's fingers against his flesh. The admiral gestured for the grunt to come over and to keep the brand open to the viewing public, his specimen fixed against the wall. Law was wild and angry and sparking and beautiful, and so sad. His hands had not been properly re-bandaged. Kureha was afraid of infection.

The admiral came in close again, and one massive hand enfolded the pirate's chin, and squeezed his face into chipmunk cheeks. He bent low and rested his forehead against Law's own in false, arrogant, intimacy. Law looked down, away from him.

"It's a sex-slave brand, isn't it Law? Anyone who came across you would know not only were you a runaway slave, you're a runaway whore, and not only that, that you're trained, right, Law? That's your specialty? We should change your wanted posters to Trafalgar Whore, right?"

The grunt laughed and Akainu's hand was under Law's shirt, driving home his point. It wasn't the first time Law had heard that particular _bon mot_.

"Except they don't like to share, do they? Doflamingo and Vergo. They trained you up but kept you to themselves. Oh, you must be very good. Those two have exquisite taste." Akainu sneered, thinking of the pirates. He was directly in front of Law now and crushing him into the wall. He stepped back, then twirled him around so he faced it.

"A familiar position, Law? Does it make you feel good, get you excited when they treat you like this?" His hand grabbed an arse cheek, even in front of the vice admiral.

Law bit back the bile. His hand ached. His heart raced.

"Expect more of it, Law. Whenever, wherever, we'll spread the word that you're willing and able to spread your legs for anyone who comes knocking, and that you're even better if you put up a fight. Okay?" and he tugged on one set of earrings, stepping away, Law willing himself not to fall to the floor.

"Anyway," Akainu picked up the chair he'd kicked across the room earlier and sat down. Law had turned around so he could keep an eye on everyone, but leaned into the wall, arms crossed. He needed that wall to keep upright. His heart hammering. Black dots in front of his eyes. All three wished they could help him.

"Seastone," the magma-man gestured to the marine guard, "Cuffs and neck."

Kureha spoke up again. "Akainu, he's chipped and weak already."

The fleet admiral waved her away. "He's a dangerous pirate. Unpredictable. Violent. Untrustworthy. Plus, we want to make sure he's compliant." He said the last as he stood and clicked the exploding collar the grunt had brought him around Law's neck. Another indication he was a slave. He brushed back the thick black hair. "Suits you."

Law's eyes flashed, and Akainu laughed. Before he put the seastone cuffs in place he pulled Law's tunic off over his head. It was loose enough to clear the collar.

- _the fuck?_ was the look Law shot the admiral, but really, nothing surprised him.

"The merchandise _should_ be on show, Law, and you _should_ advertise your trade, otherwise how will anyone know you're open for business?"

He indicated to the grunt to fasten the cuffs, and the already weak Law noticeably lost strength. Akainu pulled him after him, and pushed him down so that he sat against the chair the admiral then sat on, Law leaning against his leg. He continually ran his fingers through Law's black hair in an effort to intimidate and demean him. In a show of ownership. Law looked down, not focusing.

"He's cold," Kureha said, noticing the goosebumps prickling his skin below the black ink that decorated it.

"I thought I made it clear that our job was to make an example of him, not to treat him in a way he never treated his victims." He yanked a clump of Law's hair again. Law was surprised he hadn't gone in for the kiss. His fingers did touch the ridge of his ear, stroked it, explored it. Law wanted to shrug it off, but he'd learnt how to put up with their attention, molestation, for survival's sake, that was the training. Learnt to participate to lessen the damage.

And as for his victims. Yes, under Doflamingo's tutelage he had hurt people, badly. The consequences for not doing so were severe for him. But everyone else, except against those who had hurt him badly or would have him hurt, it was discomfort more than anything. They always got reassembled after he cut them up. It didn't hurt them. He'd never wiped out a population, or taken anyone innocent against their will, and even the not so innocent, he had no wish to defile them. Ever. Deaths had been deserved. Vergo should have died. That wasn't their narrative though. Law was trembling visibly now. The cold gave him an excuse.

"We've been thinking of granting Doflamingo and Vergo a pardon."

Law felt everyone hold their breath. Smoker chewed down on his cigars.

"In order to make an example of this one." He tipped Law's head back, by the hair of course, to look into his eyes. He let the head drop when he saw only scorn.

"They'd pay a small price, they are useful to us after all, and they've kept this one tame for the last two years. Credit where it's due," Akainu said to the room, but they knew he was addressing and making an example of Law.

A creep spread up Smoker's spine. The fleet admiral was cruel, but he usually had some sense of maintaining checks and balances. Not this time though. His fury at losing at Marineford colouring all else.

"Fully clothed, them, not this slut, we'll make sure he's buck-naked. We'll get them to fuck him on the execution platform while playing his sexploitation tapes in the background. They exist, did you know that, Tashigi? Oh, it'd make you blush. Hell, maybe we'll even take requests, _na_ , Law?" He kept a tight grip on the hair. Law couldn't do anything with the amount of seastone seeping into his body, and wouldn't have been able to stand up to him anyway.

"We'll highlight the brand, explain the meaning, maybe even have testimonials from those he'd serviced. We'd televise it. Maybe just a restricted audience, but we'd make sure the Worst Generation would see it, right? Never mind the SMILE factory, or chopping a mountain in half, or escaping with Mugiwara. Except you didn't, the second time around, you didn't, right Law? Where is Mugiwara, your allies? Your crew? Did they desert you?"

He whispered the last in Law's ear. "Ungrateful, wouldn't you say? Maybe they realised the true worth of a slave. Did you really think you could gain their respect? That they wouldn't use you and forget about you?" He then sat upright again, addressing the room once more. Law's hand fisted.

"All people would remember would be Law's final humiliation, Vergo's and Doflamingo's mighty balls slapping against his arse, and the fact that he was a great, and dare I say willing, lay. It'd be humiliating, but you like that, don't you Law?" Akainu's finger circled the nape of his neck. "It's the ultimate turn on for you. We'd be doing you a favour really. What a heavenly way to die, hmm?" He leaned his head near the younger man's.

Law tried to stand up, but Akainu pushed him down. He tried again. The man's breath was foul. What was it with the marines and lack of personal hygiene? It wasn't like they were in chains.

"Let him up," Smoker said, noticing the greenish tinge to Law's face. "He's going to throw up." And so Akainu did, of course swatting his arse, as he shouldered – as much as he could with the restraints on – the grunt by the door, and he went to the toilet in the adjoining room and brought up his just eaten breakfast, his shackled hands shaking on the rim of the bowl.

 **XXXX**

He had no desire to go back into that room when he came out, after having washed his mouth out and splashed water on his face, obstructed by his restraints and bandages. Could he look any more pasty? It was hell to try to get any kind of rest with one of these neck restraints on, but he lay on the bed, body turned away from them, and drew a blanket over himself, his injured hand curled to his chest, as much it could be. Let them fucking come and get him, as they would. He could hear them, anyway.

"He's a brilliant surgeon. I want to hear some of his ideas before you make him forget about that part of himself forever. Before you render him incapable of speech."

"Dr Kureha," Akainu's voice reverberated throughout the clinic, "Can I remind you who the enemy is?"

"Akainu, this is personal, and you know it. When you treat the enemy worse than his own crimes, what does that make you?"

Akainu hit the table. "We're here to make an example, and we're going to make an example of Trafalgar Law. No-one disrupts the moral fibre of society. No-one shirks their responsibilities. No-one challenges the marines and gets away with it."

"Your own moral compass is way off base with this one," Smoker interjected.

"Is that insubordination?"

"No, Sir."

Akainu stood. "I'll take him with me today, and I really don't think it's so bad he entertains the men. They get bored. They need a distraction." In the infirmary, Law shrivelled up inside.

"No," Kureha said. "As a doctor I am speaking. You take him. You interrogate him. You bring him back for me to fix up, and I want him still to be lucid, still able to talk."

The silence wasn't really silence. It sizzled with Akainu's energy.

"Fine, you have him for one night. From tomorrow, Kizaru and I will take over Law's case and custody in its entirety."

Oh fuck, Law thought, eyes screwed shut. Let Smoker's plan kick in tonight.


	6. Chapter 6 - Extraordinary Rendition

A/N: Warning: Contains Mature Content: Mentions/Memory of Rape/ Non-consensual sex, Language. Fluffy-ish ending though.

* * *

Chapter 6: Extraordinary Rendition

* * *

Law came back shaking, barely able to walk. At least Akainu had rid him of that exploding collar some time ago, but it was only so he and Kizaru could pass him between them with ease. He smelled of sex. His eyes were so dejected. They'd lashed his back too. His skin was covered in film. Kureha didn't want to think about it. He, even less so. His face too. That beautiful hair. No real bruises on his body, yet, though there were bite marks along his neck and shoulders, his thighs too, she was sure.

Akainu couldn't even bring him back in person, Law was that low on the totem pole. A low-ranking marine threw the shirtless, shoeless prisoner into her office. They trusted the seastone that much, and the interrogation Law had obviously been forced to withstand. The doctor had waited for him. The physical damage was bad enough, how did one mentally survive what he'd been through? Today, two days ago, in his role with Doflamingo and Vergo?

He sat curled up by the doorway for a few minutes, just inside the office, before pushing himself up on very unsteady feet. He still had the seastone cuffs on. They had left his face free of bruises, though he was beat up from before, so who really knew? Sure, the lips were puffed and bruised, she didn't want to think about that either, but it didn't look like any fist had newly connected with facial bone.

She helped him and gestured that he sit on one of the two seats near her consultation desk. He sat and stared at the floor. She buzzed Tashigi quickly to send one of her men or herself before Akainu could usurp that. She'd insisted that the admiral leave her the key to all of Law's constraints. He'd given them up under protest. She assured him the pirate would be chained to the bed at night. She lifted Law's hair, gunky, but she didn't want to make him feel worse than he already did by putting on gloves, and checked he was still chipped. She removed the cuffs as he looked up at her, and he gave an audible sigh of relief at their removal.

"Thank you," he said, feeling his wrists.

"Your shirt's on your bed." She had noticed the way he immediately crossed his arms over his body and brought up a knee to his chest in a defensive manner, wincing as he did so.

"Kizaru?" she asked, looking at his back.

Law nodded. "Ran his fingers over my back while using his powers. His form of foreplay."

Her eyebrows twitched.

"Can you shower, Law?" She meant, could he stand up without assistance. The water would weaken him.

"God, I hope so," he groaned.

"Try. I'll have clean commission on your bed in addition to your shirt. There's toothpaste and mouthwash in the bathroom. But I want to treat those injuries first, ok? Before you get dressed."

He nodded again, wearily. He really appreciated her help though. Would she take swabs that could be used against her superiors? He doubted it. He could sense the good in her, but people could only assist so far without endangering themselves.

"We'll cover this, alright?" and she placed her hand on his brand. Much had been made of that by Kizaru and Akainu – using it as an excuse to do anything they wanted, not what he wanted, to him. He looked up under his fringe. He felt so dirty. He could feel their emission in his throat and on his teeth. His own blood too. They must be trying to move him out if they were going to cover up the brand.

"Dr. Kureha?" she could see the boy in the man. She was a tough old dame, but even so, the men would often let down their guard with her in a way they wouldn't with another man. "I have no choice. I wouldn't have chosen this for myself." He cast an eye down at his dishevelled state.

She leant over her desk, adding a note to her records. The room was under surveillance. She knew it wouldn't do any good to show too much compassion. They'd remove him.

"I know, kid." She looked across at him briefly, and her eyes conveyed what she couldn't put into words. "Who _would_ choose it?" He took that in.

"I am trained though," he said quietly, running his hands along his arms, recoiling at how grimy they were, and why. "I know what to do to minimise the harm."

"It's complex, Law." She stood up and walked over to him. "We all do what we can to survive." She tipped his face this way and that to test his basic reflexes. It's not your fault, she wanted to tell him, fiercely, instead she asked him if he could walk, and he knew she didn't mean just now.

"I'll try," he said honestly, pushing himself up now, flinching. She went to help him, but he pulled away. "I'm disgusting, doc. You don't want to touch me. My skin is crawling."

"How's it different from the other day?" she took his elbow anyway, put a steadying hand around his lacerated back.

He shrugged. "Degrees of lucidity?" And she helped him make his uneven way to the bathroom.

* * *

XXXX

* * *

Law couldn't stop holding Luffy, but it wasn't like the Strawhats' captain was letting Law go anywhere either. Luffy was the louder of the two, but he always was, although Law and his crew, Jinbei and Raleigh were the only ones who had ever heard him howling like he was now. When he'd lost Ace. The heads of the two brunets were basically indistinguishable as they seemingly fused, drawing each other in. But this was the Surgeon of Death. He didn't need anyone, did he? Not that badly, did he?

The Thousand Sunny had got away from the attacks, and it had worked. The abduction of Law from the convoy transporting him god knows where. How frightening it must have been, Robin thought, they could all tell how weak and drained he was, and from what she'd heard, he'd been Doflamingo's captive for two freaking years. She could only begin to imagine what that was like for him.

She knew the admirals wouldn't go easy on him for his involvement with Doflamingo, but more so because of having saved Luffy at Marineford. Even so others had somehow managed to slip him away. Smoker had helped him; they'd had to hood him and cuff him, like the other prisoners being secreted away to other bases – coming for them suddenly in the middle of the night. He was shoeless.

The Strawhats, dressed up as officers, had been given the times and intercepted one of the transport vehicles, and taken Law as surreptitiously as they could in plain sight. They all wanted him back on deck so badly that even Luffy had vaguely followed the plan. They couldn't treat Law well. It would have drawn attention, and they couldn't assure him or themselves for the longest time that they had the right man. It had been too dark to see the tattoos.

Once they'd got him on board the ship, Robin had sat with him in the hull, but he was still hooded and chained when a battle broke out. They hadn't had a chance to free him, but the tattoos on the back of his hands were a giveaway that they had the right man. She'd held one of them in reassurance and then told him she had to help out.

He'd begged her to take off the hood. Well, Law never really begged, but there was a touch of panic in his voice. If the ship were to go down, don't let him die unseeing.

She kicked herself for being so thoughtless. Only candlelight illuminated the hold at that moment, but when she saw his beautiful, wild face it looked about a thousand years older, worn down, worried. Worry that he'd brought a shitload of trouble on them, worry he couldn't help them, and worry that they'd be hurt because of him, worry that he'd be caught and the nightmare would never stop.

"It's good to see you, Law. We'll be back as soon as possible." She squeezed his arm as she went upstairs to join the fray.

He'd been able to pull his feet up and rest against the wall behind the bench seat, his heart still pounding. His back ached. His arse ached. His fingers ached. He hoped they'd somehow kill him rather than return him to any of his captors if it came to that. He had the sensation of choking and gagging as he thought of Kizaru and Akainu, and all the freaking marines from the nights previous. He shuddered. He still felt as if he was coated in them, even though he'd spent thirty minutes cleaning himself when he'd returned to Kureha. Though washing had also taken time because he could barely stand. The smell. He thought he could still smell it. The feel of them, insistently inside and out of his own self.

Kizaru had licked some of his own jizz from Law's chest, where he'd spilled it before, and he then went in for the kill with his mouth, and scooped his fingers through the ejaculate before thrusting those in and out of Law's mouth too, ordering him to suck. And he had. He never got over the fear. He'd paid the price too many times for refusing powerful, vindictive men. He reddened. His head pushing hard against the wall. At least the wooden slats grounded him to reality a bit. They weren't here now.

That brand, though he knew that was just the excuse they needed, allowed them, according to them, to ride him doggy style while pulling his hair back and telling him how much he wanted it. The brand gave them free rein to ride him any fucking way – usually face down, up against a wall, on the floor, over the table. Then they'd make him come too. More semen wherever they found it amusing to place. Arseholes. He shuddered. He was only surprised they hadn't made good on any promises and brought in Doflamingo and Vergo. That they'd returned him to Kureha, after paddling him for being a brat, of course, a bitch, the gentle lacerations Kizaru had left on his back.

But he was safe now, maybe, for a while, if the ship could get away. Who were they fighting? He tried to pay attention. He hoped it wasn't the marines. He thought the Strawhats were winning, but then he just ended up sleeping, or maybe he passed out. He was safe if they could handle looking at him. Handle learning what he was, what he'd become again. What he'd returned to. If they won this battle.

And so when he felt the motion of the ship and the lights flick on, he was panicked at first. Where the fuck was he? But then they all came tumbling down the stairs, and he knew he was clean, but he still felt vile. His heart leapt a little in joy, but the worry crashed in too. Zoro, the steadying hand who'd guided him, somehow conveyed it was him when he was passed off as a prisoner to the new guards, cut the chains that joined the cuffs with his sword, and Nami was able to less dramatically unlock them, and he was so thankful. They had to be seastone to make the seeming rendition believable, but fuck if they didn't half kill him.

Nami flicked up his hair, because she could touch seastone, not being a fruit user, and saw the chip Tashigi had talked of. She noted Law was still himself, drawing away from the touch. "We'll get it out, Law," and he nodded, for if he was truly free, he'd get it out himself.

And then Luffy bowled into the room, all high energy after the fight, and Law turned his head for a moment, ashamed to let him see him like this. But he was grateful too, so grateful. "Mugiwara-ya," he said with a tiredness seeped to the marrow. Luffy came over, slowly, and then he tipped Law's face towards his, really studying it. Then tears and sobs shook Luffy's frame, and Law was surprised, but he reached out for him without thinking, and he could comfort him in a way he was unable to at Amazon Lily – Luffy's anguish too great at the time – but he needed Luffy too, and he pulled the younger man toward him. His hands were weak, his fingers still bandaged, but he was determined.

Luffy's arms shot around him as he all but sat on Law's lap, the hiss of pain from the Heart pirates captain being the thing that stopped him. He eased himself, his legs stretching beyond Law's hips, in a way that didn't put so much weight on the taller man. Law, still in his prison garb, hoped it didn't have a tracking device. In fact, they'd checked for it shortly after the exchange.

Luffy buried his face into Law's chest and Law gripped him, as much as his injuries would allow, and his own pain, his own tears, his own silent relief were engulfed in the dark hair of his pirate lover. Or he had been at one stage. There was a deep bond between the two, and it surprised the crew, but they could also see how much they needed one another. That was until they noticed the blood seeping through the back of Law's tunic, caused by Luffy's ferocious grip. They also noted the blood on his bandaged hand, and Law noted his own light-headedness before passing out once more for the night.


	7. Chapter 7 - That Brand

**A/N:** Tattoo ideas borrowed from _Worth_ by Doctor Cyance. **Warning** : Memory/mention of non-consensual sex/rape. **Warning** : Language. Mature Content. More author notes at the end.

* * *

 **Chapter 7: That brand**

* * *

"I knew that."

Robin, Zoro and Chopper looked up at Luffy with surprise. They'd conferred with Nami too. She'd been shanghaied into a pirate gang in the past after all.

"You did?" Robin was taken aback and it wasn't often that happened.

She thought about Law framed on the bed as they'd brought him upstairs, his black hair spilling out. His face not peaceful despite the heavy sleep. In the infirmary, after removing his tunic, they'd tipped him on his front, which seemed the less injured, Chopper hovering nearby. Apart from old marks, some of which she recalled when he sailed with them, and some which she guessed he got when he was with Doflamingo more recently – they looked like the scars left behind from his strings – there were recent laceration marks, more like burns. If Luffy had been there, he would have known. He'd seen them before in a more serious form. Akainu. Or was it Kizaru?

Usopp, Franky, and Brook were not in the infirmary. Sanji was occupying Luffy in the kitchen. He was too worried to be of help. Too strong. Robin mused that Law would not be comfortable with the number of people in the infirmary as it was, but Chopper needed some help. When they came across his own crew, she knew they would more than help him, but they would no doubt lie low for a while after Law's escape.

"The seastone prevents him from healing well, and stops him from healing himself," Chopper said sadly, looking over the older scars. What had his colleague been through these past years?

"Can we remove it?" Nami asked.

"I want to wait until he's conscious to check with him the best way how. I'm sure he's got some tips, and I know it's counter-intuitive, but he needs to be a little stronger."

Robin took in the deep gouges that the tattoos on his forearms didn't cover. She put her hands around her own wrists – the marks from having been shackled. Again, some marks on his arms were recent, but the permanent grooves proved that he hadn't lived with Doflamingo voluntarily, no matter what the government media said. Oh, he had some fine ink though. Even if the one on his back was ruined.

Other than fighting at Dressrosa, he didn't often show it all off. Unlike Ace had, or a bunch of the other boys. What life had he lived, Law?, since he'd been taken from them? He was quiet and reserved, kept many things to himself, but he'd protected all of them on a number of occasions, and had a low-key sense of humour that matched the morbidity of her own. She hated seeing him like this. They had tried to find him, they really had, but with the marines and other enemies on their own tails they'd never been able to locate where he was being held.

They helped Chopper tip Law to his side – well, Zoro did. There was a small hitch in his breathing, but it soon resumed a steady rhythm. Chopper wanted to examine Law's front without placing him on that injured back. There was a lot those tattoos could hide. They propped him against some pillows, against the wall. Chopper felt his body gently. There was bruising, maybe some internal, from beatings. But there didn't seem to be anything too serious, as in life-threatening. The way the contusions coloured his body, from a healing yellow to a deep purple, let the tiny doctor know he'd been worked over often. He'd check with him when he woke up. He wondered at the bruises and marks near Law's lips, on his face, along his neck, around his throat. Bite marks.

What lay under the square bandage just near the Heart Pirate's hip? The whole area didn't seem inflamed, and there hadn't seemed to be any physical reaction when Chopper gently pressed upon it. He peeled it back, and though Zoro, Robin, and Nami didn't say anything, they all passed one another a look showing they knew precisely what it was once they saw the brand. Chopper injected Law with some anodyne, and he rested more peacefully and deeply now. The dark haired woman lightly touched Law's own hair. It was damp from sweat and dusty from the rescue, but basically clean compared to when he'd returned from the fleet admiral's interrogation. Not that Robin knew that.

"A slave?" Chopper mused, his hoof gently tracing the hip, the brand.

Again, the three passed a look. Doflamingo's brand, Doflamingo's slave, Doflamingo's very specialized slave. Did their captain know? Something was obviously going on between him and Law. Did all this explain Law's behaviour? The deep sorrow and relief they'd all witnessed before he'd passed out?

Robin bent down to Chopper and spoke to him quietly. They'd be needing to check for some other kind of physical trauma soon too, and best to do that in private. Robin remained with the doctor while the others left.

* * *

XXXX

* * *

"Doflamingo used him as a child, well a teenager, Vergo too. It only got worse as he got older, even after he'd eaten his fruit. I guess he was still getting the hang of it. They'd beat him too: for nothing, if he didn't do what they wanted, and often even if he did." Luffy glared. They were sitting in the aquarium room and Law was sleeping in the infirmary after Chopper had attended to his injuries.

"They almost killed him the times he got recaptured from running away. The marines would always drag back a slave, and always obey Doflamingo."

"The mark?" Zoro asked. He'd sparred with Law plenty of times and not noticed it.

Luffy shook his head. "He didn't have it before. He was trained though, but Mingo took a liking to Law, so he only lent him out on occasion, and then, only to shame him. I guess he wanted to make sure that Law truly knew his place this time. Fucker – " Luffy spat, thinking of the arrogance and insanity of that man. No-one could own Law, not even him. But it didn't take much for any of those arseholes to turn brutal against his lover. Felt it was their duty, somehow, to fell the sometimes arrogant man. Cripple him. Bring him to his knees, begging either for mercy or for more.

All of them had witnessed the underbelly of the government and of those in power, whether with legal endorsement or not. Though horrific, they didn't doubt Luffy's story. Robin reflected on the marines being able to locate the Don Quixote mansion this time around when no-one else could get word on it.

"The tattoos on his hands are Mingo's marks. Law had the colour inked in, and made the pattern his own once he finally got away." He smiled a little at how cool he thought they were.

"Luffy, he's suffered some serious trauma. There are bite marks up and down his inner thighs and all along his neck," Robin said. They were the cosmetic injuries.

"We feel that Akainu or Kizaru must have used his powers on Law's back. They're burns and lacerations like I've never seen before. They'll heal, but just in the way they were made . . ." Chopper added, everyone noticing the darkening of Luffy's face as he remembered Ace. He ran his hand across the scar on his own chest. The wound that Law had closed.

Zoro sat back, his arm behind his head. He wasn't sure what to do with this new information, how he regarded their ally.

"Luffy, the bounty hunters all knew that mark. It wasn't common, but we knew it. Lots of them would take a slave like that back to their quarters. They felt nothing wrong in doing so. That person, by birth or weakness, had become a slave, and they had been trained to give pleasure. Sure, they'd acquired that skill at their own expense, but if they were good – and most are – it could mean their own survival." Zoro wondered how good Law was, an idle thought.

"There are bruise marks on his hips and around his throat, and he's more than torn up. Someone, somebodies, have taken him recently, often and not gently," Robyn said quietly.

Trafalgar Whore, thought Zoro, and felt bad for it. He knew Law wouldn't choose that life willingly, would hate that they were out here talking about him, but _damn_ if those guys weren't trained up and trained to take it with a goddamned fucking smile on their face. Maybe that was why Law walked around with a permanent scowl.

"Kureha Sensei and others must have covered the brand to help protect him a little getting out of the compound. Like Zoro said, too many men would just take, as if Law were advertising. That's how they'd justify it," she reassured Luffy, not that she thought Law sought out men to assault him.

" _Bullshit_. They'd do that anyway, especially when they know he's chipped and can't fight back. Fucking perverted dicks, and Mingo – he'd let them know somehow, let it slip somehow. Organize some kind of session so he could either fuck Law up or watch someone fuck him up." He let out an angry grunt and looked away. "I'm glad he's safe now." He was fuming that his ass-kicking of Mingo had not been enough to take him down.

"Until we're blown out of the water or the marines recapture him," Nami said darkly.

"Once we get the seastone out, he'll be back at full power. He's a great fighter, Nami."

She nodded. She'd forgotten, seeing him lying there, and thinking of the assaults. "You're right." He'd protected them from Doflamingo and Fujitora. She'd witnessed him divert a meteor from crashing onto the Thousand Sunny as if he were swatting a fly.

"So when did he tell you all this, Luffy?"

* * *

XXXX

* * *

Law woke a few times in the night. The first he was completely disoriented, but quickly noted he wasn't shackled or chained to anything, so maybe he was somewhere safe. Then Kizaru's face materialized, Doflamingo grinning over his shoulder, and he fell back into a very fitful sleep.

In the morning when Chopper opened the infirmary door, Law was sitting up and reading one of the younger doctor's books. He'd pushed himself up against the wall the bed was against, his back gently resting on it, the bandages mitigating the pain of contact slightly. As long as he didn't move from it too suddenly. He didn't look rested, but he had a quick smile for Chopper.

Before he could be the doctor, Chopper hopped up on the bed and into Law's lap with a happy shout. Law was surprised but started petting him, after he adjusted himself somewhat. His injuries weren't going to go away overnight, but holding Chopper was soothing. Like Bepo. He missed Bepo. His head tipped back against the wall, and his eyes closed, the book forgotten. Chopper thought he could rest for just a few minutes too.

"Tony-ya?"

The reindeer grunted. If he was a cat, he would've been purring.

"Do you think Bone-ya will lend me some clothes?"

Chopper sat up and looked at the Heart pirate, still talking from behind closed eyes. He was exhausted. Chopper could tell. He noticed goosebumps. They'd removed Law's bloodied prison tunic top, but he still wore the trousers.

"You're cold, Law!" He sounded panicked. The deer worried too much.

Law gave a short nod, didn't stop his petting. "It's all right. I can use a blanket, but I'd like to wear something other than this prison shit, and I'd like to keep my shirt on for perhaps more than a few hours." He grimaced briefly, and he knew they'd, or at least Chopper, had observed his brand, seeing as there was no bandage over it any more. Chopper knew his acidity wasn't directed at him.

Brook was much taller than Law, but lean like him (he was a skeleton after all), so he should have something that could be taken in, rolled up, or otherwise altered. Being a doctor and sailing the seas, you had to be jack-of-all-trades. And Law and Brook both had their own renegade rockstar style.

"When everyone wakes up, I'll ask him."

"Thanks, Tony," Law said and went back to brushing the fur of the other with his fingers. "Thanks for looking at my injuries too."

The reindeer felt too comfortable to protest the gratitude, but it didn't make him happy, despite the warm glow he felt. Maybe that warmth was just because Law's words were from one practitioner to another.

"You better not sleep with Luffy for a while." Chopper said, out of the blue, replacing his embarrassment with another topic which caused him to blush. He didn't know how else to approach it.

Law's hand stilled. It seemed he was going to say something, but decided not to. How did they know? Guess he'd held onto Luffy a little too tightly the night before.

"Even if I'm on top?" he said, offhand, and resumed patting Chopper.

Chopper looked up at him and Law cracked an eye and smiled down. "What, Tony-ya? If you're going to discuss my sex life with me, all bases should be covered." Then he closed his eyes and leant his head back.

"Umm, you shouldn't be exerting yourself, Law."

Fat chance of that, the dark-haired man thought. The seastone and his injuries, the last two years of captivity, had left him very weak. And would Luffy want him again that way? He knew this crew kept no secrets. Then, could he accept someone touching him in that way again without all the sounds, jeers, smells, physical memories of any time he'd been fucked against his will crashing in on him? He'd been able to get past it when he was younger, but he was wondering if he had the reserves of strength to do that again. Law exhaled. Even now a visceral sense of Doflamingo crowded him. He knew Tony-ya was only trying to broach a fucking traumatizing topic. He switched into doctor mode. It gave him some distance.

"What's the damage, Tony-ya?"

"How many were there, Law?"

Law's hand was still again, but he didn't remove it. Chopper felt it quiver. His face was dark.

"I lost count, Tony," he said quietly. He guessed Chopper was talking about the most recent assaults. "I just blanked out. just wanted it to stop. You need to check my throat too, for thrush, other infections or injury." He shrugged. He could do that himself, but best that Tony knew what he'd be dealing with if Law had a complete breakdown. The reasons behind it. They both knew they'd need to check for disease.

"And then it wasn't so much how many, at times, though that happened. But who."

Law was hugging the furry little reindeer to him now, as if he were a pillow, and Chopper, whose face was turned toward Law, didn't mind. He sensed the distress and anger, in the way an animal could.

"You have a good heart, Tony-ya," Law said, his grey eyes resting on his fellow doctor. Then the names rolled off his tongue with disgust.

"Kizaru. Akainu. Doflamingo. Vergo."

Sure there were others, but those four, and especially the last two were insistent, consistently used him like a dog. He tipped his head back again. Eyes closed. Chopper could tell he was schooling his features to impassivity, but he felt the quickening of Law's heart, felt the way his fingers gripped his fur.

Chopper drew in a sharp breath. "But they're so big!"

Law nodded, grimaced. "Tell me about it."

Chopper reflected on the injuries he'd attended to when he'd shooed everyone from the room, bar Robin. They were severe. Humans were cruel. "Don't tell me they used haki?"

It took Law some time to reply as he recalled the searing fucking pain.

He spoke quietly. "Haki, no lubrication, or whatever lubrication there was was my own blood, cum, saliva. At times their jizz or spit. The aim was to hurt and humiliate me, Tony-ya. And especially with this seastone in, they did an exemplary job. Doflamingo and Vergo had me for longer, so sometimes they'd prepare me, or have me prepare myself . . ." His face twisted in distaste. "They didn't want their property so abused that they couldn't abuse it again."

Oh god, the sensory recollection just kept hammering down. The immobility. For some reason he just felt as if his face were covered in their release, as he recalled, time and again, them pulling out of his mouth, or jerking themselves off in other ways and spilling their load all over him.

Law picked Chopper up and placed him on the bed as he struggled to stand, wincing as he pulled away from the wall. "I need to wash. I feel disgusting."

Tony held out a hoof. Law staggered a little. He wasn't full strength. "I know it's not my fault, Tony, no matter how much I've been brutalized in an attempt to convince me otherwise, but right now I just feel like like my only purpose is or was to be this object they deposited into; that I've been forced to sacrifice my identity for their pleasure, my existence really.

"And I just feel at times that every surface of my skin is coated in their scorn and disregard. That the pores of my skin take in and exude my total fucking worthlessness. That I'm just this fucking bit of trash to be kicked to the kerb, because that's my fucking role in life."

He sat back on the edge of the bed, his mouth a thin line, and he held his bandaged hand on the gauze around his chest protecting the wounds on his back. His good hand sat on the brand

"And one of the few things that makes me feel better is soaking in the water and scrubbing my skin so that one part of me at least is clean." Chopper noted Law's body was still well-toned. He wondered about that. Maybe it was a fruit ability thing. Either way, he'd lose what strength he had in the water.

"Law." Chopper climbed back onto the man's lap, and he knew the captain was crying as he pulled the reindeer to his face. He tucked his smaller head into Law's neck, as he had seen Luffy do the night before, and let Law hold him, let his animal nature give the older man comfort, for as long as he needed to draw it.

"Law," Chopper murmured again, his blue nose sniffing the high angled-face of someone he had grown to love as a protector, healer and teacher. He could feel the basic strength in the arms that held him, even while Law's energy was depleted.

"Mmm?"

"We'll get the seastone out, okay? You'll feel a hell of a lot better."

Law wiped his inside wrist against his eyes, and sunk his head onto Chopper's again. "You're right. It's like having a continuous toothache."

"Law?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think you can put me down?"

"Tanuki-ya!" Law said, with a smile, at the misappropriation of his species.

Chopper began to protest, but then saw the gentle smile, and just put a hoof against the tattooed chest. He blushed slightly. Law sat him down. He was playing with him. He'd let him get away with it this time.

"Do you think Bone-ya has some fluffy clothes?" He ran his hand over Chopper's head, scratching at his ears.

Chopper was sure they could find something.

* * *

XXXX

* * *

When Sanji pushed into the infirmary later that day, cigarette in his mouth, but not lit in deference to Chopper's rooms and any patients, Law was again reading on the bed, his back against the wall. It was a pleasure to have access to reading materials. They were on a strict reward/punishment basis under Doflamingo.

Brook indeed did have something fluffy and it looked good on Law, but the man could wear a sack and look like sex on legs. The slate grey eyes looked over the black feathered neck of the sweater. Law loved to tip his face into it, and the feathers reminded him of Cora. It was reminiscent of the outfit he wore after Punk Hazard. He wore simple black jeans that he'd needed to roll up a bit. They'd been far too short for Brook, luckily for Law. A misguided present from a fan. The sweater was one that had shrunk in the wash. Sanji wondered what the surgeon was doing for underwear. He recalled he was commando when they'd brought him in, or at least according to Zoro.

He looked better than the previous night. A little rested, dressed and clean. He must have felt better. He placed the tray on the corner of the side table where, with a little manoeuvring, Law could lean over and pick up the items.

"Thanks, Blackleg-ya." Chopper didn't want him eating with the crew yet, and considering he didn't feel fully confident yet, it was probably just as well.

"Get some meat on those skinny bones, shitty surgeon."

Law smiled to himself. Some things didn't change. But where was Luffy? He hadn't dropped by yet. Was it the brand?

Sanji sat in an armchair in the corner of the room diagonal to the bed to make sure Law ate. He had a habit of skipping meals. "I'll eat, blackleg. I want to recover, believe me."

The cook nodded at the food indicating he wanted to see it with his own eyes.

"I brought up the last breakfast they let me have," Law said, leaning across to pick up a bowl and take a sip of miso.

"This is all soft on the stomach, and hopefully you're under less stress," Sanji said.

Law ran an appreciative eye across all the washoku items he adored for their simplicity and delicacy.

"Considerably less." He stood off the bed and brought the tray to the centre of the table, moving a few of Chopper's files. He took the seat there with care so he could eat more comfortably, his back to Sanji. It took him no time to hoover everything up and he felt a little more human as he placed his chopsticks on the edge of the tray.

Sanji didn't think he'd seen Law eat so fast before, even when Luffy was after his food. He knew that kind of hunger.

"Thanks, Sanji. That's the best meal I've had in a while."

The cook grunted his thanks and Law stood, thinking he might want some fresh air, the tray in his hands to return to the kitchen.

"Akainu's pissed at you."

Or not. The tray shook a little, and Sanji noticed the tired eyes of the surgeon grow even more fatigued and wary. He sat down, placing the tray back on the table, and ran a hand in his own hair. Spinning the chair around, he turned to look at the blond. Sanji frowned at the indentations on Law's wrists.

"What's the news?"

"There's talk of releasing Vergo and Doflamingo to help track you down. Your bounty has sky-rocketed."

Law felt suddenly weak, weaker. He wouldn't be standing up again soon, at least not to walk to the kitchen. "You should have told me that before I ate breakfast."

Sanji shrugged. He'd rather risk Law throwing up a meal than losing his appetite, given the state he was in. "What'd you do to get him so steamed?"

"Other than escape?" He looked directly at the cook.

"Yeah. I get that, but to talk about releasing Joker and Vergo?"

Law shuddered at the question. Maybe he'd just have to submit and have this whole mess of a life over and done with so that everyone else could get on with theirs.

"Motherfuckers," he snarled and wiped his tattooed hand over his face. "We have to get this chip out." He knew the cook was good at filleting, it was worth entertaining the thought. He noticed Sanji still looking at him, expectant.

"They," he meant the marines, and the top marines, "seem to think I've got a pretty arse which they also seem to think belongs to them, but Akainu mostly hates me because I saved your own captain's arse."

Sanji was taken a little taken back. This was personal. Not just Law and the World Government.

"He told me that directly. Kizaru too." He remembered the agony and the hot shame of being in the grip of either man. "Kizaru told me he didn't like Benn Beckman pulling a gun on him to stop him going after the sub." He made a face.

"Akainu didn't like a slave helping Dragon's son and the brother of Roger's son." Law studied the fingers on the hand where Kizaru had pulled the nails. "All of that is more offensive to him than anything Doflamingo or Vergo might have fucked up." Namely him.

* * *

 **A/N:** **Thunderfran** : Thank you! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	8. Chapter 8 - Seastone, Nightmares, Kikoku

**A/N** : Where Luffy helps matters, but Zoro doesn't. Sorry Zoro fans. He improves later on in the fic.

The idea of flensing the brand is from Doctor Cyance's _Worth,_ as is escaping from Doflamingo with Penguin. The nightmare draws on LittleYaoiKitten's _Light_ , which is **_not_** light reading at all. Seek it out at your own peril. This chapter is in no way near as explicit, but still, I'm sorry, Law. Skip from after the first break to the next one if you're likely to be triggered/disturbed.

 **Warnings** : Mature content, Rape, Non-consensual sex (nightmares), assault, language, under-age (memories)

* * *

Chapter 8: Removing the Seastone / Nightmares / Kikoku

* * *

They were making their way to Shanks' territory, where hopefully his protection meant that Law could recover without marine interference. After hearing Sanji's news, he'd got Robot-ya to check that the seastone chip didn't contain any nasty exploding devices or quick release poison canals or anything similar. When they'd established that it didn't, they operated under local anaesthetic, Law guiding Sanji with a mirror, and Zoro nearby to keep things steady.

It was risky to do the operation on high seas, but even riskier to leave Law without his powers, especially with that mark. He'd flense it when he had his full powers back. Even going into Shanks' camp with that mark would be hazardous. With full powers, not so much so.

Chopper had overseen the removal of the chip, and they hadn't needed to cut away part of his ear, but they had to cut into it. Chopper's hooves and weakness to seastone meant it would have been a difficult operation for him to complete alone, even in heavy point. Again, once Law's fruit ability was in full swing, he was hoping it wouldn't be too late to regenerate some of the tissue.

It was bloody, and Law felt faint, but the relief at the chip's removal was almost instantaneous. They didn't know how quickly his powers would replenish, nor in which form, so Chopper dosed him with painkillers and sedatives, and urged him to sleep.

Law felt hazy after the surgery, and was worried about lack of control. He whispered to Chopper, before going under for recuperation, that if he was having persistent nightmares to get Luffy. Please.

* * *

XXXX

* * *

 _Fuck the bitch hard so he pukes_.

Doflamingo's voice came from behind him, where he'd gripped and dug into Law's hips, as he bore into him doggy style, pounding into his arse - the squelch of Law's own blood and Doflamingo's dick going in and out, his balls slapping against his rear loud in his ears. His own blood rushing to his head. Not to mention the fact of being used as a, as _the_ , means to an end. Vergo grunted in agreement from where he kneeled in front of Law, his dick already deep in the younger man's mouth, and he pulled on Law's dishevelled black hair – revelling at the sight of the traitor's spent and dejected eyes – to have him take more, and he then hammered away with the same intensity as Doflamingo, way to the back of his throat. Law's fear and disgust rising with each thrust. Any protest drowned out. Not knowing where he was, what was happening, the hideous feeling of unwanted skin and organ pulsating and brushing against the roof of his mouth, down his throat. Taking up every single bit of space. His arms and shoulders shook like crazy, but collapsing wasn't an option.

The blond man slapped his arse as he kept up a punishing rhythm. Law jerked forward. All he could feel was either man inside of him, jostling his organs, friction against his skin, using him. Doflamingo loved seeing how his body moved under his own, the reddening of his tanned skin, already bruised from their prior attention, Law's complete lack of control.

 _His eyes are doing that thing, Doffy. All hooded and needy. He's loving every last fucking minute of this. Such a slut,_ Vergo said, recalling a younger Law in a very similar position, and he laughed as Law glared up at him for a second before getting caught up in the physical maelstrom of what was happening to him, and he dropped his eyes, saliva drooling out of the sides of his lips.

Vergo knew it was hard for him to breathe, and that was all part of the beauty of it. He pulled Law's hair tighter and just fucked faster and harder. Whore. He wished he had the arse-spanking duties. He'd put the brat over his knee later. He'd make him squirm.

Doffy leant over Law, his huge weight almost crushing the younger man's supple frame to the ground, and he continued to grind. "Is that so, Law?" he whispered in his ear, licking it. "You must be in heaven getting banged by two men. And even if you're not, we sure are." And he tipped Law's head slightly his way, his mouth stretched as it was around Vergo's girth, catching the scared and furious eyes, even after all this time, and he then scraped his nails back down the Heart pirate's back, and resting at the front for a while on the brand. He was glad that they kept Law in shape when he wasn't administering to their needs. Fucking up beauty was satisfying, but you could only fuck it up for so long before it lost its sheen.

He intensified his speed, if it was at all possible, almost pushing Law across the floor, but he was trapped between the two men, and then, with a nod from Vergo, Doflamingo released into him just as Vergo spurted everything he had into Law's apparently oh so willing mouth. It made the marine-pirate want to come again seeing his own semen spill from between Law's closed lips, as the younger man swallowed everything down, as he'd been instructed. To see Doflamingo's sweat covered body, still behind, still buried in Law's bruised and quivering frame. His miserable, angry eyes got Vergo hard all over again.

Law gripped the bedsheets. He knew the nightmare didn't stop there. It continued with the men flipping him over and penetrating him while finger fucking his mouth, and making sure his body slid back in his and their own cum. And then, who knows? Memories piled on top of memories. Licking their shoes. The images were interchangeable. Boots on his head, against his skin, would it ever stop?

Chopper looked on concerned. The twitching and whimpering, the occasional shout of pain, had continued for the last forty minutes. He couldn"t wake Law from his nightmares and he remembered his entreaty to get Luffy in this case. It was early morning, dark still, but they did, Luffy yawning as he walked in the room. He sat by the side of Law's bed, sad at first and trying to hold his hand, but the other captain was restless and it was difficult to get a grip on the tattooed fingers. Then he climbed up into the bed. Chopper would have warned against it – given Law's existing injuries, and his new one, and that they didn't know if he could control his fruit ability at this stage. But Law was going to undo all of Chopper's work anyway if he didn't calm.

He did quiet as Luffy pulled him near, careful of his back. At first the Strawhat captain placed one open palm softly on Law's face, but the Heart captain ducked his head and pulled away with a whimper, so Luffy tried to softly curl around him, slow that skittering heartbeat. Law's rants and twitches gradually subsided, though he initially stiffened in the embrace, but didn't fight it, and he started to breathe more evenly. Luffy allowed him movement. He was rubber and could trap Law, but not now. And Law's own arms, even while bandaged, even while he was asleep, sought out Luffy and drew his body near. And then it was quiet as Luffy looked on with concern, whispering to Law that it would be alright, and pushing the black hair back from his forehead. Chopper watched the pain and fear leave the fine-featured face as Law's breath grew from ragged to gentle, indicating sleep. Then he watched Luffy fall asleep too, his face against Law's chest.

* * *

XXXX

* * *

Zoro sat in the corner. What was going on with these two? He'd been sitting there for an hour or two, Luffy had been gone from the men's quarters for three. Now that Zoro had seen the brand, knew what Law knew to do, knew how to take, and how to take it, he wondered who was manipulating who. He was a whore, wasn't he? Despite being a captain, a surgeon, a swordsman. He would've been fucked as many times as Zoro had breakfasts. Why would Luffy want that? He was going to be the pirate king. How could Law think he could have Luffy with that background? That he'd be in any way deserving?

He noticed Law stir. Quiet still movements of someone taking in his surroundings. He got that. Anyone else would think he was still fast asleep. He observed Law take note that his own arms were around something, and he initially frowned, but when he attuned himself to the breathing pattern and smell of Luffy, Zoro noticed his face relax and Law did not remove his hands. Then, he opened his eyes, but instead of taking in his surroundings, Law looked down _at_ Luffy in his arms, and the fact he was wrapped _in_ Luffy's arms, and Zoro saw the relief, and was it affection? wash over him. There was a small smile. Such a gentle thing. Who knew? And then the Surgeon of death planted a kiss on Luffy's crown, before closing his own eyes again.

The fuck?

Both had a right to happiness, but Luffy was asleep, and Zoro didn't know enough, anything, about this relationship, if there was one. Had Law just manoeuvred them all, their innocent captain, got Akainu and Kizaru on their tails, for his own means? Being a slave, especially the kind of slave Law was, meant that kind of sneaky shit was often your only form of power. And those kinds of slaves excelled at it. Had to excel at it. Filth. The Surgeon of Death wasn't known for his straightforwardness.

Zoro crossed the length of the room quickly, quietly, and wrenched Law free of Luffy (though Luffy's own grip tightened), pulling the half-awake doctor up by that ridiculous feathered sweater. Law scowled, eyes closed, didn't express any surprise if he had it, and put one tattooed arm across said eyes. "What'll it be Zoro? The mouth or the arse? Chopper says I'm too cut up to take another pounding, so I guess you'll choose to keep me quiet."

He put his hand on Zoro's in protest and both could feel he didn't have the strength to stop him. He snarled, and Zoro dropped him and followed through with a right hook that pushed Law back into the bed and nearly into the realms of unconsciousness again, but not before leaning in and putting his mouth roughly over Law's now open one as it gasped in shock, and tongue-fucking him in the way he knew all slaves grew to expect, to like, that it was their duty to take. Law almost blacked out into the waiting arms of all his demons, the exhalation of his last air into Zoro's mouth exciting the green-haired man.

But he didn't lose consciousness. It took him some time to figure out what happened. He was tense, waiting for the follow through. The frantic feeling up of his crotch, the second blow. It didn't come. Fighting to get his breath.

"The fuck, Roronoa?" He said from the pillow, rubbing his cheek, the non-grazed side, as Zoro pulled away. Those grey eyes now glaring at the swordsman. "You can try and take me now when I don't have the strength to stop you, but you'll be unable to once my fruit ability kicks in." He tried a small _room_ now the chip was out. It fizzled. He frowned. "I'll kill you if you try then, and I won't forget, Zoro, if you go ahead now."

Zoro spoke from the side of the bed. Law's hair fluffed around the pillow. They'd clipped it back near his ear. "I felt you respond, Law. I felt your tongue curl into my own. Your mouth was compliant. Don't tell me you didn't like it."

Law rubbed his jaw again. Liked getting punched in the face? It wasn't something you grew used to, though it could become unwelcomingly familiar.

"Are you with Luffy?" Law tried to turn to his side, away from Zoro, but Luffy's grip was really something else. "Apologies," he said, giving up on moving for now, eyes shut again. He was tired. He was recovering. He hadn't had time to figure out the crew dynamics yet. "I've been away and he calms me. I'm only just holding it together." I've been through hell, you know? he felt like adding. But it didn't seem to be something Roronoa currently cared about.

Zoro exhaled, shocked at the statement. But typical that Law would drag it there. " _No!_ I'm not with Luffy. But he deserves better than a whore." Zoro's arms were crossed. His katana clanked.

So that was it. His words hurt, were bothersome.

"What are you doing putting your fucking diseased lips on him?"

Law opened an eye in surprise and looked at the green-haired man by the side of the bed. Daring to, he thought, daring to kiss your captain. Someone with my background? Law thought. Is that what you're asking me Zoro?

"That chaste peck on the top of his head?" Law rolled his eyes, attempted to sit up without waking Luffy. "It was gratitude." He recalled that his nightmares had him pinioned between Vergo and Doflamingo. Distaste at the memory flittered across his face. Luffy must have brought him out of it.

"I was grateful he was there, Roronoa-ya. That all of you were. Are." His back, his fingers, now his jaw, his ear were buzzing with low-lying pain, somewhat absorbed by the medication Chopper had provided. He reached around Luffy with shaky hands for the glass of water left on the bedside table, and drank most of it.

"And yes, if he'll have me, if I can get over the last two years, if he's not with someone, then maybe there is a chance for me with him, to continue from what we had."

"And what the fuck was that?" Zoro walked back across the room to the armchair in the corner. Threw himself into it and sat with his legs splayed.

"The only inkling we had of you two being any closer than fellow captains in an alliance was that all of a sudden it seems that neither of you can keep your hands off each other. Though I doubt, somehow, that Luffy has had much to do with that. The alliance was your idea after all. You'll get your freedom one way or another, right, Law?"

Law felt the anger he'd been keeping under check bubble. His eyes flashed at Zoro. Why did he always have to live the fucked-up nightmare that others dreamed up for him? Couldn't he have something lovely, sweet and heartfelt for once? Luffy was exactly what he needed because he was so little of what he'd had before. Was it really so difficult for others to imagine he was capable of giving, and that he could be of value, beyond being a rag doll, to another?

"I operated on him after Marineford. I _saw_ and felt his desolation after he regained consciousness, and yes, I helped him through, but nothing happened until after Punk Hazard. We were discreet. He helped me with my nightmares. His definition of alliance has always been flexible."

And no doubt you helped him with his, Zoro thought, slightly shamefaced, reflecting on Law's words about nightmares. He scratched at the back of his head. That debt and bond between them would be something the crew would never really know about, nor be able to share. And flexible alliance? He guessed this was one interpretation of that Zoro had never considered.

"It still doesn't explain why you responded to my kiss."

"Was that what it was?" Law hadn't enjoyed feeling Zoro force his tongue down his throat. "Why did you decide to tongue-fuck me in the first place?"

Zoro eased himself up from the chair, walked back over, blocking Law in. The older man tensed as Zoro lifted Law's top to reveal the brand. Law hissed and jerked Zoro's hand away.

"Because of that. Is that explanation enough?" Zoro's face was nothing but a sneer. Where was Kikoku? Law wondered. Zoro had probably been taking care of her. He could do with her now. He eyed Zoro's swords and Zoro noticed, put his hand on their hilts. This was the man who so solidly helped him escape just a few nights ago, who had his back throughout all of the rendition. The brand changed things that much?

"You're trained to spread your legs and open your mouth to any cock that comes knocking, and not just in the last two years. Luffy told us about your previous training." His lip curled.

Law had to remind himself to breathe. Remind himself that his strength wasn't enough to beat the shit out of Roronoa at present.

"He called it that, training?" Doflamingo on his young body, and Vergo soon after him was hardly anything as positive as _training_ , though at the end of the day, he guessed that's what it boiled down to.

Law loosened Luffy's grip entirely, gently, so the boy didn't wake up. He pushed himself up against the infirmary wall running alongside the bed, as he had the other days. He drew up his knees and rested his head on them. They were arced over Luffy's prone form.

Zoro shook his head, shrugged. Law waited a beat. He couldn't remember what Luffy had said exactly.

"Well there lies your _fucking_ answer." Law cupped one hand on the back of his head in a gesture similar to Zoro's own. Zoro was back in the armchair nearest the door. Law's voice was iced with anger.

"They trained me up from a very young age, and once I was what they considered of age, I learned very quickly that if I _wasn't_ responsive I got torn apart for five hours instead of two. That I was chained for six hours instead of one. That they'd let me wander around naked for the whole day instead of half. If I complied, they might not kick my teeth in, they might use lube instead of spit, they might let me study for that fucking night. They might ease up on the humiliation a bit," Law's eyes glowered as he relayed only part of it. Zoro, impassive. Law, defeated. Never defeated.

"So yes, when they woke me in the morning with their fingers, tongue or dick pushed against my lips, I fucking learned to open my mouth, to take it in and participate actively, unless of course they were just after doing the most damage possible, and I had no choice. Especially with Doflamingo's string ability."

Law buried his face into his knees and the feathers, hoping to find some kind of solace away from these memories bombarding him. The disgrace he felt. Why him? Waking up as a slender teen between Vergo and Doflamingo, their hands all over his body – how did he even keep a handle on his sanity? He had to fight for it, all the time. Shaking. When was he ever going to stop shaking?

"When Penguin and I escaped I didn't go with anyone for a very long time for fear of being too submissive, and likewise, I carved up a number of men just for looking at me. Either act was an overreaction."

Zoro could imagine the attention he'd garner. Even there, scrunched in on himself, battered and bruised, he was a beautiful man. He picked at the frayed cuff of Brook's borrowed, altered jeans, and the black ink snaked up his arms. His earrings, similar to Zoro's own in colour, offset his features. Did Doflamingo give him those too? Were they brands as well? The swordsman doubted he'd still be wearing them if they were.

Law traced the inside of his hand, over and over, with his clumsy bandaged hand. "It took me a long time not to react with encouragement to every come-on. There were plenty and I didn't want them all, but I was trained to fucking please others. To submit."

Law's face was buried in the crook of his arms, his next words more muffled.

"I trained myself out of it. The come-ons decreased, I got my own crew and the marines were on my tail for other reasons." Law sighed, looked up, leant across and took another sip of the water. The good old days, eh?

"But then, as luck would have it – though I'm sure you see it as a weakness – Doflamingo and Vergo- _fucking_ -san recaptured me, and so it started all over again. As an adult. Ten years after I'd left all that shit behind."

He sat quietly for a while, trying to gather his thoughts. His mouth was dry. "The conditioning came crashing back through. I think it was survival instinct, as if I'd never been away," his words, bitter. Vergo and Doflamingo reminded him of it again and again. How he was just born to be banged, born into being used and abused. A natural. And here was Zoro, saying the same. His ally.

Law stood up, clambered over Luffy and peered out the small window at the back of the office. It just looked onto the Sunny's recreation area but let in some light. Luffy slept through.

"That's what they wanted to happen, of course. You too. For me to know my place, right?" And he understood that was on his knees, in their minds. "You can treat me however you want if you tell yourselves that. _I_ don't have to buy it though."

He lowered his lanky body into the chair by the desk, pulled open a drawer, and started preparing some fresh bandages for his hand and back. "You think I would brand myself? That I'd see any benefit in it?" Law shook his head, looking over his shoulder at Zoro. "Nobody fucking does this by choice, Roronoa."

He'd lifted the jumper, and that travesty was on display again. "As soon as my abilities are up I'm fucking flensing that so that arseholes like you don't think it gives you permission to forget I'm human."

"It does kind of clash with your other tattoos."

Law sneered at the attempted humour. He wanted there to be just one space where he could feel safe from the fear of humiliation, mental and physical, and even the fucking infirmary had proved not to be it.

Eyes closed, he spoke again, "Punk Hazard, Dressrosa, none of those battles meant anything to you? Sparring with Kikoku? Ultimately it all just boils down to a brand? That's the only way you see me, and you feel it gives you permission to treat me as less than a whore? And there's always a reason someone is one, and it's usually not pretty."

Zoro thought of Kikoku back in the Men's Quarters, nearest his bed. She had a malevolent energy away from Law. She wasn't going to be happy with Zoro's actions. The green-haired man cleared his throat. Law looked over.

"Maybe I find you attractive."

Law sized him up. This guy had just punched him and had a conniption when he suggested he was with Luffy. Yeah, he probably did find him attractive in a bound and gagged kind of way. Well he wasn't playing that. But, usually Roronoa was a good looking man you could rely on. He came with a bundle of quirks. None of which were going in Law's favour at present.

"There are better ways to let me know other than breaking my jaw, shoving your tongue down my throat and calling me a whore," Law said with surprise and menace at his words.

"Insecurity," Zoro shrugged.

Law rolled his eyes. "Che." He stood up and made to return to bed. Screw this guy. Still, it was better than being demeaned.

"You need to regain your strength, Law."

"Try not to knock me into next week then."

Zoro's words were true though. He'd continued training with the Don Quixote pirates, but it was mostly to keep him pretty for Doflamingo and Vergo. No sword work.

"We can start training in a few days, if you like. I'll bring Kikoku."

"Now?" Law asked, hopeful. Putting aside his animosity. Kicking himself for it. For sounding too eager. He was beyond pissed off with Zoro.

Zoro nodded. Law was right. He was a swordsman. He was rarely without his nodachi. Except for the last two years, but thank god Doflamingo hadn't got his hands on her.

When he returned with the sword, Law was back on the bed, still resting against the wall, his legs drawn up out of consideration for Luffy. Or maybe he just liked sitting like that. When he saw Kikoku in Zoro's hands, the sword shook. Law moved so he was at the edge of the bed.

Zoro held her out reverently, with two hands. "She's ticked off with me."

Law raised an eyebrow as if to say, _and you're surprised because_? He also took the sword two-handed and nodded at Zoro with deep thanks, as was the custom.

"She likes Bepo." Law's voice was like gravel.

Figures, thought Zoro. Animals had a purity humans were nowhere near possessing. Law held her for a few moments, taking in her energy. Zoro knew Law was the only other one on the crew who meditated or connected to the older arts in any way. Brook aside. He was the older arts. She was thrumming. Law unsheathed her. Zoro felt it was without menace, but if the sword was angry . . . he kept his hand on the hilt of his own, just in case. Law inspected the blade, turning it this way and that, and then returned her to her cover, leaning it against the bed.

"Holy shit, man. You got her riled up. You could feel her energy and you still pulled a stunt like before?" Law's eyes were spiked with renewed anger. He held onto the longer hilt of Kikoku to keep her steady.

"I didn't think."

Law looked away annoyed. The man could feel his energy, knew his strength, and still all that had crowded his mind had been that goddamned brand, ownership of Law. Once, before he knew better, he had asked Doflamingo what he got out of hurting him. He could get into kinky sex, he could, but really, that's all he'd known, far too young and too much, and no choice at all, up to the age of sixteen when he finally, successfully escaped. That shit should be decided between consenting adults.

"It's so delectable . . . " the pink feathered arsehole had crooned while he'd had Law chained up in that fucking dungeon that time (one of many), running his tongue over his claimed and battered body, "to watch you suffer. To break your spirit." Law sighed on the bed remembering. Could he just remove all these memories somehow? " . . . to treat you with such contempt, such disdain." He'd pulled him into a deep kiss, "As is your worth." Law's hands tied up over his head. Doflamingo had a hand at the cleft of his arse. "And you'll learn to thank us for such attention, won't you Law?" And he'd scissored him open. No doubt fucked him. That was the usual end result. Why did he have to fight so hard for people to treat him as a human, including himself?

"Ask next time," Law spat at Zoro, giving him a tiny benefit of the doubt. He couldn't cut him up on the Strawhats' own ship. "The answer will be no, but it's a pretty fucking common courtesy. I don't care how insecure or protective you were feeling." He moved his jaw, feeling the bruising. Luffy murmured in his sleep, something about meat, but then fell back to dreaming.

Zoro glanced at Luffy, and then tipped his head Law's direction. Extend courtesy to a whore? Law could see it in his eyes. He'd stopped regarding him as a swordsman. Law stood from the bed, taking Kikoku with him, taller than Zoro, but the master swordsman's haki was strong.

"Didn't you learn anything from your creed, from your practice, to not judge from title but action? From your opponent's spirit and heart?"

Zoro tipped his head again. That was rich coming from someone known for his stealth, and the only action he could think of was Law with whomsoever in whatsoever position. Flat on his back, or under him, across a table. Those legs fucking spread, either being taken by Zoro as he roughly fucked him, because that's how Zoro liked it, and sex slaves pleased their masters, or begging him to do so. Could he get that slut to beg? He bet it wouldn't be so hard. Either way. His action. His heart. His spirit. Flat. On. His. Back. Law'd seen that judgmental gaze before, giving those who cast it excuses, excuses, excuses. Seen that hooded lust. His eyes burned. Was Zoro even sober?

"What's the point in trying to explain?" Why was it him that was always forced to be on the defensive? What they did was reprehensible. "Just don't touch me again."

Zoro immediately breached that boundary by putting a hand on Law's arm. Law shook it off, exasperated, went for his nodachi, but his hand just rested on the hilt. Both men knew he didn't have the strength at the moment.

"You hurt my captain, I hurt you," Zoro growled.

"It's a given, right?" Law growled right back, and wondered where all the people were who might stand up for him. He'd thought Zoro might have been one of them. He was mistaken. He cast a look back at Luffy, still sleeping, and went to the deck for some air.

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The next chapter gives Law a bit of a reprieve, if everything's a little too much. **Bbazzle** , thanks for your review! Law's journey is tumultuous!


	9. Chapter 9 - Storage, Robin

A/N: Angsty chapter where Robin offers friendship.

 **Warnings** : Language, mention of rape, non-consensual sex

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 **Chapter 9 – Storage / Robin**

* * *

It was light outside. As much as he should have appreciated it – he hadn't really been free to enjoy the ocean or fresh air, the sky above, for such a long time – right now he needed somewhere black, quiet, well away from everyone. Somewhere he could curl in upon himself.

Robin found him, in a corner of the little room behind the boiler, way at the bottom of the ship. It was pitch black until her eyes adjusted. The white patterning on the nodachi's sheath guided her to Law. From what she could make out, he was folded in on himself, head on his drawn up knees, Kikoku in the crook of his arms, just as he'd sat out on the deck of the Sunny on the way to Dressrosa. Looking down, not outwards.

"Law?"

There was no response.

"Mind if I sit down?"

Again, no response, so she did. She could tell from his breathing that he was awake.

"What are you doing down here, Law?" Hadn't he had enough of dungeons, of being locked up? She hadn't expected him to respond, and so when he did she almost missed it.

"Safe."

Ah. She looked down. She couldn't really see her own hands. She could see the appeal in darkness though Law couldn't really explain it himself. He wanted to go somewhere he could let his grief just wash over him, and let out the self-loathing they'd ingrained in him; where he didn't have to look at anything or anyone, or have them look at him. The dark was comforting in an all enclosing way. When he'd been younger, he'd hide in the storage rooms to read, to try and escape Doflamingo.

In the extreme of either of his captivities, as uncomfortable as it had been to be shackled in the dungeons, he'd grown to like the quiet in the moments in between the beatings and the fucking. At least they were leaving him alone. Here in the dark, maybe he could give in to all of their faces, their words, or he couldn't see them at all. After captivity, it took a while to become reacquainted with freedom. He'd barely been a few days free, and a whole lot more of them captive.

She took his hand, and she felt him tense, but he didn't withdraw it.

"They really did a number on you, didn't they Law-kun?"

Who were these _they_ , he thought? There were the two main protagonists, and then Kizaru and Akainu, and then every other faceless fucking entity in between. Zoro. Roronoa. And Law had to take that, and couldn't allow the possibility, acknowledge the growing, existing, trust and tenderness between himself and Luffy? All he could and should expect were other men taking him in the roughest and most painful way possible, because that was expected of him? That was his role?

He didn't know how to form words. His breath just got deeper, and Robin realised that he was crying, and she wasn't sure if he was aware. It was soundless, she could only tell from his exhalation. That didn't surprise her, but she knew there was nothing but desolation in that release.

"Luffy's worried."

She felt him stiffen and he gently pulled his hand from hers, and then she imagined him, or felt him, more so, turn from her and more in on himself.

"You missed lunch."

It took him a while to actually hear and process that. She heard him give a small laugh, over the other emotions crowding and clouding him at present. This crew and their obsession with food. He knew he needed it though, to gain strength, to face whoever might be over that goddamned horizon. He might not be on this ship much longer, given the events of this morning.

"Chopper wants to check your injuries." Law touched his ear briefly, and pulled away at the sharp pain. The pain-killers had worn off. He'd have to get it looked over.

"What happened, Law? To come down here?" Was he even wearing shoes, she wondered. Had they found anything in his size? She felt him jostling on the bench seat that circled the room, and he sighed, the sound shaky from the tears.

"In my life?" He said quietly, a growl, "Or more recently?" They were combined.

"Today, Law-kun. We left you in the infirmary, asleep with Luffy, and you finally looked at peace, were sleeping, and now you're down here. Today."

 _Kun_. He knew there was no menace when Robin used the endearment. But it had been used as a belittlement by many others. His own name said by others could be poisonous. Condescending. Doflamingo had always urged him to step back and let the adults take control, and that meant no control for him.

Robin heard Law pause. Bracing to speak. He started, stopped, started again.

"How did you feel about Luffy sleeping in the same bed as me?"

Robin shrugged, and realised Law couldn't see her, though he could feel some movement.

"Whatever nightmares you were having, Law, they weren't about to let go. I'm glad he could help you."

Law rested his head against his nodachi. "Yeah, me too."

Was that it? His response? His reasons? Each time he added more she was surprised.

"Sometimes I need complete darkness like this to both will those nightmares and memories away but also to let them wash all over me and knock me about a bit. Sometimes I just can't escape their words and the memory of their touch all the fucking way over me. It's so ingrained, I don't have enough power to not let them dictate how I feel." Even now, insults, entreaties, hands, lips and dicks where he didn't want them ghosted over him. He just had to let it happen.

"Does it disgust you?" He felt the brand under his sweater. "Does it disgust you, knowing what I am, and seeing me with your captain?" _Does it make you want to rip me from limb to limb, to lay me down and take that which he only wanted to share with Luffy?_ The movement of the ship over the calm seas was barely perceptible to the two seasoned pirates.

"Law," she whispered, and drew near him again. She could feel his body heat, which wasn't much. "I'm going to touch you, okay?" Could he get any more rigid? "I'm not them, okay?" She put a hand on his arm, and sought out his hand again, entwined their fingers. She felt his breath shorten a little. She guessed he'd heard similar endearments that had ended in insult and injury.

"It's me, Robin. Nico Robin, your friend." One of her fingers ran over his thumbnail. "Law, what you are?" She could see the vague outline of his face, and she very gently placed a palm against it, but she noticed he flinched, more from pain than fear. What was that? She dropped her hand. Or was he turning from the words that would define him? _Tell me Robin-ya, what am I?_

"Yes, we were all surprised by the brand, and we were worried sick when you were captured, but that brand isn't you. You're a fighter, a survivor. A brave man who's endured more than anyone ever should. A kind man, and an amazing fucking surgeon who saved our captain's life, and I don't think that your assistance was completely physical. I know you've helped heal Luffy's emotional wounds too. Why would that disgust me?"

She sat back for a while, but didn't let go. "Being with Luffy was also a surprise, yes, and I will not be happy if he's hurt, but I think that you can and have made him happy, and that's a wonderful thing."

She squeezed his hand.

Law swallowed. "He broke down the first night we saw each other again."

"And he needed to. He won't do that around crew you know. I mean, not to us. He doesn't let us get _that_ close. You both share knowledge of deep loss, but you draw from that to heal the other. He needs that. You too. I'm grateful, Law. He didn't know if he'd see you again. None of us did."

Silence.

"Me too, I'm grateful too." Law murmured.

"You're cold?" She'd felt him shiver.

"Mmm," but he didn't make to leave. Being cold was a way of being.

"Robin, thank you for your words, but I'm a whore, or I'm also a whore. This mark tells the story." That was a conversation they'd never had on the way to Dressrosa, and what had Akainu said? Had Law really thought a slave could gain the respect of this mighty crew? Once they knew his true worth?

She realised he'd lifted his sweater a little.

"I'm owned by others, have been. Nearly anyone who comes across this mark will want to use me. My conditioning is to comply. I can't count how many times I've been fucked, and Doflamingo and Vergo just rotated through me as if it was a very pleasant – for them – a necessary chore they had to execute on a daily basis. Except that gives you the idea they did it once and left me alone, and that there was no violence or degradation involved, which is nowhere near the case. Can you accept that, can Luffy?"

He felt her reach for his head again, and she manoeuvred it so that their foreheads touched. She had to tip his head down. It seemed to be the go-to for intimacy.

"Law, no-one can or ever has owned this entity that is you, and it makes me so mad that they've tried to crush and break you. I know they can't. I accept you as you are. You seem alright to me, and if Luffy cannot, that's his problem, not yours, and you'll know to walk away. You're not a whore, Law, you're a survivor, and first and foremost, human, and you should be treated as such."

Robin always had a macabre sense of humour.

Law's inhalation was shaky, as before. "I had to pleasure them. That's the basic job description. I had to respond, I had to initiate if it was required of me." His hand had gone to hold her wrist gently. "I had to yield. I had to give them what they wanted."

"You're not a whore. It's not innate. You don't deserve it, you didn't choose it, and why not you with Luffy if he's into it? Why not?"

He left his hand on her own where she'd tried to tip his face towards her. It was difficult to read his eyes in this tiny, dark room. He kissed the surface of her skin lightly, seeing as some level of intimacy had been broached, then sat back.

"Thank you, Robin." After a pause he began again, "Doflamingo and Vergo were so inconsistent, except in hurting me, that I'm always second guessing. It's a protective action, reaction."

"Mhmm."

"Your first mate, however, tends to agree with them, and doesn't agree with you."

"We'll work him around."

Law hoped so. He kept it to himself for now, but had no desire to wake up to the green-haired man's lips over his again, that punch.

"Will you join us?"

He'd dropped her hand. "Will you sit just a bit longer?"

"Just a bit, Law. Can I come closer? It's cold."

She felt him pat the seat nearer him, and he had no objection when she leaned into him. She drew her feet up. Robin had always been there, despite initial reservations about the alliance between the Hearts and the Strawhats. She had none of the knee-jerk reactions to him that some of the more timid members did. She was surprised when he put an arm around her to warm her. She really must have gained his trust. They both knew he batted for the other team, for the most part, so there was no deeper intent. Had known that from personal conversations they'd had on the Sunny as it made its way to Dressrosa. But he wasn't the most physically giving person, and disliked being touched by those he didn't know well and trust, and even then. She warmed herself against his body. For him, it was a matter of practicality.

"Robin, what I'm about to say will sound crass. Can I go ahead?"

He felt her nod against him.

"I'll tell you to stop if it's something I don't want to hear."

And he would stop. That's how adults, humans, treated one another. Her hair smelt nice.

"Okay then. Part of the game was always to get me off too, part of the humiliation, part of what turned them on."

He told her in such a deadpan, well-modulated voice, but she knew he was a maelstrom inside, or had been. And this kind of topic was never easy to talk about.

"Sometimes the release is incredible, and when the body, my body, endures that for so long, it sometimes seems the only way to get off."

"Subjugated?"

"Mhmm," he said quietly, his arm still warm around her.

"I don't think Luffy's into bondage."

Law laughed. "With those rubber arms . . ." And they both laughed at the darker humour.

"I'm not either, really, Robin, and especially not forced bondage, forced anything. But, despite the encounters being degrading, they were also my introduction to sex, and pleasure carries with it huge servings of humiliation and guilt, or the opposite. Fear leads to pleasure. I feel ashamed of myself. Doflamingo and the others say the only honest part of me is my body, as it responds to them."

She felt the arm tighten. It really should be Luffy here.

"Law," and she was now close enough to see the confusion and pain in his eyes. "Law, your honesty was telling them no. You never agreed to having them use you, imprison you, chip you. You told them no, even if it was in a slow burning hatred, trying to keep a hold of your identity. Even if it was a sense that something was terribly wrong. It's their dishonesty that can use your body's responses as a justification for assault and torture, enslavement. You know that. You're a doctor."

"Yes." He looked down now, unwrapped from her, his elbows on his knees, his hands in his hair. But what did he really know? His childhood was a war zone, his adult years were better, but not always. "Feeling and believing it are a different thing. Especially after these two years."

Especially after Zoro this morning.

"You're raw, Law. Picking at a scab." It felt more like plunging his hand into a gaping wound. "You're worth a thousand of them, you know. Luffy's lucky." Robin stood up and held out a hand. "Coming up?"

He almost took her hand, but said, before he could stop himself, "Roronoa-ya also thinks my innate spirit is just waiting for someone to fuck me."

She paused, Zoro? It didn't sound like him. She sat down again. "What happened this morning, Law?" She tipped his face her way again. Noticed again the slight flinch when her thumb touched his jaw.

"He punched me in the face and followed through with a kiss that included a fuckload of tongue."

"Zoro?"

Law nodded.

"Why?"

"The punch was because I kissed Luffy. His kiss was because I was a whore. Because of the brand. He told me clearly."

"You kissed Luffy?"

Law sat back, and she felt his arm move, running through his hair, perhaps.

"There should be different words for that action. I kissed his crown. The hair on the top of his head. It was a kiss of gratitude. It lasted a second, perhaps. Closed mouth. Chaste."

"He was asleep?"

"Yes, and I'd just woken. The anaesthetic and analgesics must have made me groggy. I couldn't even sense anyone else in the room, other than Luffy."

"Your nightmares were intense last night, Law."

"Nightmares, memories, they're all one and the same really."

She knew his lips would be in a line. Noted that he cradled the nodachi.

"But yes, they were, but they ceased, and it wasn't until I awoke and found Strawhat with me that I knew why. I can't even begin to describe those dreams, Robin, except to say, they don't fucking exaggerate reality, unfortunately."

"Didn't."

The base of the nodachi scabbard scraped on the floor slightly. "Didn't. God-fucking-willing. So that was part of the reason I was so grateful. I was on the ship, seemingly safe, – the removal of the seastone chip – I can't tell you what a relief that is." He sat back against the wall and stretched out his legs.

"And more so, here was a guy who seemed to care enough about me that he'd come to the sick bay when requested . . ."

"You requested it?"

"I'm prone to nightmares, and I knew I couldn't fight them post-op, so I'd asked Chopper to get Luffy if he couldn't wake me."

"And he couldn't."

Law shook his head. "I just had a sense when I woke, and not in the middle of a nightmare, whether in my dream world or reality, and with Luffy's arms around me, that maybe everything could be all right. That someone cared that much, even if it was to help a friend and nothing more, or maybe it was something more. A lifting of this anxiety that eats up everything." His sigh was of frustration.

He remembered feeling the taste of Luffy's hair under his lips. It was a gesture of affection, thanks, reverence almost. Nothing more.

"Next thing I knew, Zoro had lifted me into the air by the neck of my sweater and then punched me back down to the pillow. My mouth flew open of course and he made sure he cut off all escape options for breathing and questioning. I almost blacked out."

Fuck, did he what. Law wiped his hand over his face.

"I could tell the intent, you can sense it from them. Before he punched me, remember, he already had me by the shirt neck, I asked him if he was going to pound me or keep me quiet, Chopper definitely advising against the former. I told him that too. Did it seem like a come-on? Did I bring it on myself?"

"Zoro? You mean . . .?"

"Was he going to fuck me in the arse or between my lips?"

Robin whistled. "Well, you've always been too acerbic for your own good."

Law gave a very quiet laugh, almost a sound of regret. "I was surprised, but don't get me wrong – relieved – when he didn't follow through. I told him if he did I wouldn't forget. If he tried when I was stronger, I'd kill him. I'm getting stronger, but I'm not there yet."

Robin grimaced thinking of the seastone that had been coursing through Law's bloodstream the last two years, and the people who thought keeping devil fruit users in a constant state of discomfort and pain was the best way to control them. She shuddered at the thought of the touch of it.

"He's been with Luffy a long time. He's protective."

Law nodded. "I checked that they weren't together. I've been away. Anything can happen. He admitted some kind of attraction to me, almost had a fit at the suggestion he might be with Luffy."

Robin was sure Law's expression was sardonic.

"Insecurity. I could have granted that. Just. Maybe," he said, recalling the confusion and feel of suffocation under Zoro's assault. "But he returned Kikoku, and knew how angry she was, and yet he couldn't see me as the swordsman who'd helped him fight, protected him at times, the doctor who'd fixed up his wounds, the person he knew, as prickly as I am, while we crewed after Punk Hazard and fought through Dressrosa. We've drunk together.

"He told me that my filthy mouth on Luffy's body disgusted him. That I was good for one thing, I was trained for one thing, so he was within his rights to take that one thing, for me to give it to him. It was my duty to do so, and really, I had or would have no say in the matter."

"He didn't . . . ?"

Law shook his head. "No, apart from the initial assault it was all verbal."

He was calm. She could tell he was, but he was also trying to figure out how to approach and spend the rest of his time on board the Sunny. He so wanted it to be his haven, at least until he could meet up with his own crew.

"Luffy told us."

Law nodded. She sensed he had his eyes closed. "I responded, instinctively – or from years of conditioning really – to his tongue in my mouth. I must have curled my tongue back to his in that moment, even though I really didn't know what was going on. It wasn't expected, and I didn't want it."

She noted that his fist was curled up next to him.

"Robin. It's what I was telling you before. I told Roronoa-ya too. I had to learn how to respond. The consequences were too great if I didn't. I was trained in that. He was completely right, but it didn't mean, doesn't mean, that I want him all over me, and I hope it doesn't mean that I've lost any chance with Luffy."

Robin turned to Law again, this time, she pulled her legs up and faced him directly. He didn't have his hat on. His hair looked so inviting and soft. Chopper would be so mad at him. He looked even more exhausted than all his injuries and journeys suggested he should. Shouldn't he look a little better after the rescue? This close and with her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see much more.

"Law, can I touch you again?"

He appreciated that. "Any time. Thank you for asking, it means a lot."

He guessed she meant more closely than just holding his hand.

She kneeled on the bench, and brought his face close to hers again. They were close enough for her to see the brittleness and tenderness in his eyes, now that their sight had adjusted to the darkness. Only the darkness was privy to that look, she guessed. She had her hands on either side of his face. She saw the compassion that the Don Quixote fucks couldn't beat out him, no matter how much they tried.

"Smoker thinks a lot of you, you know."

Law nodded. "I think a lot of him. I owe him."

"Tsuru, Kureha-Sensei, Luffy, Chopper. Hard and gentle folk." She traced the ear which _hadn't_ been operated on the day before. "Zoro's a product of his circumstance."

As am I, thought Law.

"A bounty hunter, a man's man."

"I don't see why I need to bear the brunt of his prejudice."

She shook her head. "You don't, and you shouldn't, but he's not a sadist like Doflamingo."

"Just unthinking, like the fucking marines. It's not pleasant, you know. No matter who's on top of you." Robin nodded. The women often understood far better than the men, which maybe only proved Zoro's point in a fucked up kind of way.

"You'll train with him?"

"I will." Law knew he needed to get his strength and skill up, no matter what.

"He'll come around, and you'll kick his arse at some time in some way. In the meantime, we'll watch your back, Law. I'm sorry it happened."

"Yeah, I think he's sorting through some stuff, but I just don't want to be dragged down with it. I can't defend myself well at the moment. I need to feel safe to recover."

She kissed him lightly on the lips. He looked at her surprised.

"I want you to know that people will treat you gently, Law. That you deserve it." He looked quickly down, almost in pain. Inhaled, looked up, then brought her face to his, and returned the favour. Oh wow. That was beautiful.

"You sure you're not interested in women, Law?" She said when the kiss had ended, her voice shaky.

"I have my moments," he said with a smile. He was trained to please, but the warmth in that kiss was separate from his training. Now it was his turn to rest his head on her forehead. "Thank you, Robin-ya." He couldn't see Sanji or Franky treating him gently, but nor did he want them to. He just wanted recognition and respect as a human.

She stood up yet again. "Coming upstairs now?"

He nodded. She could see the shadow, and his tall frame unfolded as he took her hand.

"Chopper's going to be so mad with you if you've got hypothermia."

He laughed, and followed her to join the crew. He really did need to find a pair of shoes.

* * *

XXXX

* * *

On deck, Chopper ran up to him, all indignation, as Law trailed after Robin.

"Where were you, Law? You should be resting. We only operated yesterday. Anything could have happened."

Law bent down and scooped Chopper up, smiling once they were face to face. The rest of the crew noticed he had his nodachi back. Chopper noticed the tiredness on Law's face, the redness of his ear, and, was that a bruise on his jaw? He reached out, but Law drew back. The tiny doctor frowned. Chopper noted the goosebumps along Law's exposed skin.

"I'm sorry. I'll come to the infirmary now." He set Chopper down.

Sanji wanted to talk to him too, but also noted the strange discolouration on the surgeon's jaw. He didn't say anything, but his eye had caught Law's. He turned his attention to Robin.

"Robin- _chwan_ , this brute didn't lay a hand on you, did he?" They all knew it was part of Sanji's schtick, but they also knew there was a warning behind those words. She smiled back at Law warmly, and gave his tattooed hand a squeeze.

"He was the perfect gentleman, Sanji."

"Tch," they all heard the response from Zoro, and Law froze. He turned to look at the green-haired man, resting against one of the outside walls where he had been napping. Zoro stared right at him. Law turned from him, and walked to Chopper's surgery.

Luffy followed them in. Law sat in the chair as Chopper inspected the slight inflammation of the ear, and applied antiseptic cream. "How are you feeling?"

"My ear's a little sore from the swelling, but now that the seastone's out, so much better. The relief is almost indescribable. Thank you, Tony-ya."

"And Sanji," Chopper deflected.

"Yeah, he did a great job. I can feel myself knitting together again. My hand, my back, they hurt a lot less."

"Your jaw?" Chopper said, his eyes narrowing.

"It will fade," Law said.

"How'd you do it?"

"Tripped."

The doctor was graceful. About the only time he fell was when Luffy tackled him unexpectedly.

"Hmmm."

"Law?"

Luffy.

Law looked over at Luffy on the bed. He was sitting on the edge of it. "I woke up, Law, and you were gone. We couldn't find you."

Luffy saw a quick sadness in Law's eyes. Did it mean he no longer liked him?

"Sorry, Luffy. It was rude of me. I just needed some time alone."

"Quite a lot of fucking time alone." Law's absence had gnawed away at Luffy daily over the last two years. Would he see him again? What was happening to him?

"Quite," Law nodded. "I had some thinking to do, but thank you so much for helping me last night. I liked waking up and seeing you were with me this morning." He smiled at the memory before it was replaced with the follow up.

"You did?" Luffy's eyes were firing again.

"Of course."

He gestured to Luffy and Luffy came over and they shared a quick kiss before Chopper went to work on replacing all of Law's bandages. Was it their first kiss since reuniting, not counting the peck on the head?

"Can I sleep here tonight?"

"You want to?" Law's eyes were hopeful, smiling.

Luffy nodded.

"If Tony says it's okay, I'd like that."

Both looked at Chopper.

"You," he pointed at Luffy, "Fine, but no squeezing. He's still hurt." Luffy wrapped himself around those he cared about like an anaconda. Luffy nodded readily. "And no funny business. No penetration. His body can't take it."

Law blushed.

"Oh, he's usually on top anyway," Luffy smiled brightly, and though Law also blushed at this, he loved Luffy for declaring it so confidently, without any shame, as if they were a couple. They must be a couple. He laughed.

"He shouldn't exert himself, Luffy."

Luffy just smiled quietly. He knew that. "No problem. We've got a lot to catch up on," and he tipped Law's face his way again, also noting and frowning at the bruise, and kissed his lips with such tenderness that Law felt a quick sense of peace.

"You," Luffy said to Law, "Don't miss dinner. Sanji will be pissed, and we've got to talk strategy." Law and Chopper both scoffed, it wasn't Luffy's strong point.

"And Chopper, take good care of Law. He means a lot to me."

He left the room and Law and Chopper exchanged a glance, working together on speeding up Law's recuperation.

Chopper wanted to keep him in the infirmary. It had been less than a week, and he'd treated Law's fingernail-less hands, those slashes Kizaru had burned into his skin, historical injuries, and the ongoing damage wreaked on Law by every man and his dog, particularly Akainu, Kizaru and the marines, courtesy of Doflamingo. Despite his fruit abilities coming back into their own, Chopper wanted to keep an eye on him. Especially when strange bruises showed up on his face.

Law joined them all for dinner that night, and in spite of his reticent nature, Robin smiled warmly and created a space for him to join her and Nami. He took it gladly, knowing that the cook would serve them first, even though it didn't really matter, as Law was still on a very gentle, separate diet. Luffy was a whirlwind at dinner, and even though he wanted to be with Law, they knew it was safer for him not to be. It also meant that he got to keep his food to himself.

They had a toast though, to his rescue and the successful operations. It was the first time in a long time that Law had alcohol as a free man. Doflamingo liked decanting it down his throat at times, or giving it as a treat if he'd acted the perfect pet. He'd poured full bottles over his beaten body, in an act of complete contempt. It was nice then, being careful of the painkillers he was taking, to clink glasses with Nami and Robin, to catch Luffy's eye across the room, and to witness the broad grin that swept across the youngster's face before Law resumed conversation with his companions.


	10. Ch 10 - Nightmares again, Flensing, Zoro

**A/N** : Things _do_ get better, just not until the end of the chapter.

 **Warnings** : Rape, non-consensual sex, mature content, language, disturbing content

The idea of flensing the brand is from Doctor Cyance's _Worth_

* * *

 **Chapter 10 – Nightmares again / Flensing the brand / Zoro**

* * *

Under Shanks' protection, life had a semblance of stability – for pirates, that often wasn't the case. The job description didn't include 'stable' and 'secure.' Law had managed to flense the brand before they'd reached the yonko's fleet. It wasn't a lovely job, and he was still recovering, though his health was constantly improving. It left him showing a lot more bravado than he actually felt when it came time to sit down and have a drink with him. His body hurt all over.

Chopper had been furious at him, and he understood why. He too would be more than irate if one of his recuperating patients attempted such a thing. The speckled and pockmarked skin would match the other side where he'd flensed Doflamingo's mark so many years earlier. The coloured brand was like a poison seeping into his skin – with Zoro's words, Doflamingo and Vergo, Kizaru and Akainu. He wouldn't accept their branding, their definition.

* * *

X

* * *

No _nono_ ** _no_** , this couldn't be happening. Law woke to the familiar – familiar, how fucked was that? – feeling of someone thrusting in and out of him, and jarring his body completely. The room was dark. Night then. Clothes – no, not on him. Hands – could he get this arsehole off him? No, chained. Seastone, chained to the fucking side of the bed. He felt his strength depleted. What kind of medicine had Chopper given him that would make him not notice being dragged to the end of the bed so that his legs hung over it (these legs were currently hoisted over this fucker's shoulders), not notice the removal of his clothes, the placing of the cuffs, and – yell, why didn't he yell? Where was Luffy? This wasn't Luffy, was it? Fuck, that would break him.

He was gagged. Fuck – breathe through his nose – he'd fucking gagged him too. What with? Some kind of washcloth stuffed in his mouth. He could taste the soap. Well that wasn't going to get him in the mood in a hurry. His nostrils flared. He couldn't sit up. It was impossible. He tried. He could get as far as his elbows, but that just gave the aggressor better access. It wasn't too painful. Had he lubed him up, somehow? Except he was still fucking tender from the assaults while being held captive by the marines. No-one had used him for the weeks they'd been sailing, and he knew he'd been healing. That was fucked too. How had he slept through someone opening him up and entering him?

The quiet grunts, and the slap of that guy's balls against his arse was sickening. He lay back with a very muffled groan, the flannel on his tongue causing him to dry retch. He gripped the railings of the bed where he was chained and fought down the panic. It would end sooner or later.

The seastone made it so that to even lift his legs and to angle a kick was an exercise in futility. Roronoa, going at it like a steam train, noticed he was awake, leant over and pulled Law's gag free. He was going in for the kiss, the doctor needing to bend his legs slightly to accommodate the action. Law kept his lips set in a straight line, despite wanting to spit out every thread of that fucking cloth that had pushed into the roof of his mouth, and trapped his tongue; despite wanting to cough, and repressing the need to gag. His eyes burned.

Zoro pressed down on the bandages covering the newly flensed brand and Law opened his mouth in pain. Zoro dove in, lifting Law's head to him, tongue delving deeply, and biting the Heart Pirate's lip. "Fucker," breathed Law, and bit down on the tongue, enough, he knew, to make it bleed. Zoro withdrew with a smile, wiped his own face, kept pounding hard, and then used the same hand to backhand Law so his face flew to the side.

"Bitch," Zoro said, Law's body moved back and forth rapidly on the bed, "Know your place." And he bit all down Law's neck, slobbered over his body, grabbed his cock and started pumping. Motherfucker. He was going to use this against him with Luffy, Law thought. The brunet felt his body respond and he came as soon as his body wanted to. These motherfuckers always wanted to drag it out like a game of fucking penis one upmanship. If he was spent, then they couldn't humiliate him into begging. What _didn't_ he know about getting fucked?

"You liked that, huh, cunt?" growled Zoro, lifting Law's legs higher. Law flexed a limb to see if he could get any traction, there was nothing. Zoro felt it, and easily lowered Law's legs a little and bent them around his own hips so he could go in deep, hard and fast.

The black-haired pirate was beautiful in front of him. He'd just come all over his hand and wasn't showing any shame. Zoro could see he was enjoying every moment of this, and tough luck if he wasn't. His face flushed and his body moving helplessly from Zoro's own power, his black hair lifting and settling with the rhythm. It made the green haired man giddy. He put his fingers covered by Law's cum by his mouth. Again Law wouldn't open. He'd keep, thought Zoro, and instead he wiped it through Law's hair, along his face, smeared it over his body. Law recoiled from the touch. What didn't these guys get about rape? But then again, that's why they did it. Power. Because he didn't want it.

Law felt the sheet below him scrunch up, and his body lurch as if the Sunny had hit bad weather. He could tell from the irregularity and intensity of Zoro's thrusts that he was about to come. The green haired pirate leant over him _again_ , punching into that wound _again_ , so that Law let out a shout of pain that was quickly covered by Zoro's mouth. Ugh. His tongue found every single space there was in his mouth and filled it. It was preferable to fingers. He hoped the taste of soap was as nauseating for the green-haired fucker. He gripped Law's hair. As he came, his body shuddering against Law's own, he breathed "filthy whore," into Law's lips, and fell on top of him. Law's brand be damned.

Heavy. So fucking heavy. So much invading every pore of his being. He hadn't withdrawn yet. Zoro was legendary for sleeping. There was no way he could endure him sleeping on him and in him. "Get off me," the dark haired pirate hissed. "Get the fuck off me, get out of me, unchain me, and get the fuck out of here."

Law was angry, first and foremost, disappointed, terrified, and yes, ashamed.

"Not so fast", Zoro said, putting a gentle finger against Law's face. Law wanted nothing to do with it. Zoro hadn't moved, and Law felt the swordsman's cum between his arse cheeks. Zoro pulled out with a disgusting wet sound and added the excess ejaculate to the waste that was already on Law's stomach. He ran some of it across the imprisoned man's lips. His eyes flamed at him.

"I won you for the night."

Law could smell the alcohol.

"What!?" Law didn't understand. This wasn't a one-off where Zoro snuck around hoping not to get caught?

"From Shanks, in a card game."

"Shanks?" When did he go from being shichibukai property to yonko property?

"I don't belong to anyone, Zoro. You raped me. It's sexual assault. It's not fun."

"Well, it was for one of us," and the younger man loosened one cuff, refastening it quickly to the other still clipped to the side of the bed. The cuffs were joined to one another now. He undid the second cuff from the side of the bed, and lifted Law further up the bed. He refastened the restraint on the edge near the wall, so he could roll Law onto his side. His back was to Zoro. His tattooed body was still quivering. Fucking beautiful.

"You can't fight, fate, Law, you can't beat your role in life."

Zoro's fingers were inside of him, cleaning him out. Law squirmed to get away. Zoro held him tight. "I would never let this happen to me," he whispered in Law's ear. _The weak don't get to choose, Law_. The Heart Pirate heard Doflamingo's words.

"Seems that a lot of Doflamingo's assets were sold off when he was imprisoned, and you were one of them." Zoro slipped in behind Law, spooning him. He was so beautiful. How could he be anything else? Law shuddered again at the feel of the wet crotch against his arse.

"We played a game of poker. I won. He asked me what I wanted, and I said I wanted to sleep with a slave."

"Shanks keeps slaves?" His voice betrayed his alarm. He couldn't speak clearly. He had no way of keeping Zoro's hands off him, and he rested stiffly under his grip.

"Mostly to free. But he keeps a list of the deeds in case he has to prove ownership in case the marines or someone want to take them away. Maybe he was protecting you Law."

Zoro breathed against Law's neck. Some protection, Law thought. All of this was so wrong.

"I saw your name on the list and said I wanted to spend the night with you. It lists you as a sex slave, by the way. Flensing this was in vain." Zoro could feel the blood seeping through the bandages as he put his hand on it. "I'm sure Shanks will want to try out the product soon. You'd do well to be nice to him." Zoro licked Law's ear and nibbled on his earrings.

Law all but shut down at the last comment. He started shaking.

"Ah, poor baby's cold," said Zoro, bringing a blanket over them. "I'll have you suck me off before the night is out and that will be your morning duty too, and then I'm sure that Luffy will want to introduce you to your new master. It's bound to warm you up."

Law felt Zoro grow hard again against him. "Like hell I will."

"This mouth sure won't look pretty without its teeth," Zoro threatened, his fingers playing with Law's lip. "Why not use it for the purpose it was intended?"

Law stared at the wall in front of him, and then shut his eyes, hoping to block everything out for a moment or two, knowing that he'd wake up to Zoro fucking him again in one way or another. Where was Luffy, the rest of the crew? He opened his lips, and drew in Zoro's fingers, hating himself.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

There was another week or so until they were due to meet Shanks. Despite operating with his fruit ability and with Chopper's help, the wound left from the flensing was infected. Severely so. Chopper wasn't surprised. Law was so rundown. He'd had to go back to the infirmary, and Chopper had drained it, dressed it, and given him a strong sedative to help him sleep, but neither he nor Luffy could help with the nightmares. Not this time.

They kicked in almost instantly. Relaxed wasn't a state known to Law. If either of them approached the bed he activated, not at full power, he wasn't conscious after all, and was still in recovery mode, but he activated his devil fruit, and neither Chopper nor Luffy were keen on being dismembered, so they backed off. Law wasn't calming by himself though, so Luffy activated his own devil's fruit, and wrapped himself around the snarling and sweating man, so that Chopper could restrain him.

They used the seastone cuffs, ordinary mineral on the outside, but coated with the draining substance on the inside, so that the small doctor could handle them and Luffy. Law needed to rest, and if he was calling his fruit ability into use, it wouldn't activate restrained by these, and who knows what might happen to other members of the crew if Law's powers went unchecked in the state he was in?

Not to mention that thrashing about like that was going to open his wound. The cuffs weakened him, but didn't calm him. Luffy touched his face, his body, and he went rigid then seemed to fit. They had to restrain his legs too, as he went to kick them. Chopper thought of upping the sedative dose, but wasn't sure of the side effects. Maybe it was better to just let Law wear himself out. And eventually he did, though his hair was wet with sweat by that time, tremors still wracking his body. Then the nightmares started up all over again after a few hours of seeming rest.

When he finally awoke, first one eye, then the other, he noticed his reality wasn't too far from his dream world as he felt the cuffs on both his hands and legs. He took a quick breath, and willed himself to calm down. What day was it? What week was it? What was reality or not? Why was he chained? Had Zoro chained him, or Shanks? Would they be coming back any minute? Did someone else have him? Where was Bepo? His blood was cold. But then he followed the plastic tube he could see beside him to the fluid kept in the drip, to the I.V. in his arm. He was hooked up? None of his memories factored that element into it. Zoro had been way too rough for that to be part of the equation. He wore clothes?

A dream then? He ran his tongue over his lips and in his mouth. There seemed to be some wounds. It was a bit cut up, but that could be an effect of nightmares. His mouth would be in worse shape if even half of what it seemed he dreamed was true.

His heart rate began to slow, and these restraints were a real pain, but he figured his nightmares must have been intense. Were intense. Chopper watched over his patients like a hawk. Why wasn't he here now? He couldn't move his hands to feel his wound, but the pain didn't feel too bad. No way the amount of pain he'd be in if it actually had been punched. Fucking nightmares? He gave a small relieved laugh, but felt vulnerable as hell chained up like this. He wouldn't stand a chance.

The door opened and he tensed. He relaxed, let out an exhalation when he realised it was the tiny reindeer. It looked like he was carrying the implements necessary to treat his flensed skin.

"Tony-ya," Law murmured, his voice croaky from lack of use, looking across the bed and room, tipping his head to the side.

"Law!" Chopper smiled up at him, and placed the basin of water he'd been going to wash Law's wounds with on the desk near the bed. He opened a drawer and rummaged for the keys to the restraints. Law eyed those with relief too. At least he wasn't going to have to beg for freedom of movement, trade something off. He swallowed, his throat dry.

"Sorry, Law. You kept trying to use your fruit power. It's lucky Luffy and I are in one piece. And then you were hurting yourself too."

Chopper jumped up on the bed and released all four cuffs. Law groaned with relief at the loss of the seastone. He lay with his arm over his eyes for a minute, before pushing himself up. He felt at his wrists where the bands had been They'd cut into his skin as he'd tried to escape them in his sleep. Overall, he wasn't too shaky.

"Sorry." He meant it. He didn't want his pain to cause harm to those he loved. "Did I hurt anyone?"

"A few bruises here and there, Law. But we're okay."

The older doctor nodded. Chagrined. He eyed the second stand next to the bed.

"I have a catheter? How long was I out for?"

"The infection was severe, and you wouldn't stop hallucinating. Once we restrained you, we had to give you a catheter. But all in all, about three days."

Chopper was lifting his shirt and looking at the wound. Law helped pull up his shirt. He was so thirsty.

"We'll remove it soon, and your I.V.."

The dark-haired man nodded. "Sorry to cause trouble."

Chopper looked up at Law's stormy eyes for a second, and then buried his face against Law's abdomen. Tattooed fingers instinctively reached to pat him.

"Oh Law, what were you dreaming of? We couldn't help you."

Chopper could sense the nervousness and wariness emanating from him. Law looked down, and then shrugged, looking into the distance. He hated being this mess.

"Have we reached Shanks' camp yet?"

Chopper sat back and resumed dressing the wound.

"No. We have about a week more of travel."

He felt Law relax at those words. It had been a dream then. It was a dream. Or many fucking repetitive dreams of being fucked. He swallowed, looked around for water.

Chopper finished his work. Then went to the far side of the desk and poured a glass of water for the older man. He swallowed it down. Chopper brought the jug closer, and Law poured himself another.

"We had to keep it away from you, Law. You were throwing everything about."

Law smiled - a thin line. "Doesn't seem my style." At least not without the benefit of a _room_ , he thought.

"You were scared and angry."

"Yeah." Law leant back against the pillows as Chopper set to work removing all the tubing.

He felt exhausted. Again. He was tired of this. And yes he had been. Terrified. He winced as Chopper removed the catheter, again felt vulnerable, and again had to fight his rising anxiety. The small reindeer's animal senses picked it up.

"It's all right, Law." He placed a hoof on his wrist. "It's just me." Law covered the tiny hoof with his hand and shuddered.

"Thank you, tanuki-ya." Chopper let it go, not bothering to tell Law he was a reindeer. Though the pirate often deliberately called him that to stir him, now wasn't one of those times. The man was spooked.

"What did you dream of, Law?" Chopper was working on the I.V. now. Law's eyes were haunted when he turned them Chopper's way.

"Tell me, Tony. Does Shanks keep slaves?"

Chopper looked at him, puzzled. "I don't know."

Law ran a hand over the back of his head. "The nightmares were very . . . realistic."

Chopper waited.

"How are my injuries?" Law asked quietly.

Chopper climbed up and sat next to him on the bed. "Your fingers are functional and unlikely to attract infection at the moment. The nails are re-growing. Your back has scarred, but it has healed well. Your front is still tender, but with the work you put into it at the start, and now with the seastone being removed, it should fix itself up quickly. By the way," and he looked back up at Law, "That was one unpleasant operation."

"Tell me about it," Law laughed. Even under the protective dome of his _room_ there had been a lot of blood, fat, skin and sinew as he'd had to slice away at his own skin. No wonder it had got infected. Chopper's eyes softened. How much he must have loathed that brand to do that to his own body. Law lay down again, tired. "It was for the better. It'll give them fewer excuses."

Chopper paused before continuing his rundown. "And your ear," Chopper tapped where the seastone cuff had been and Law felt no pain, "Completely healed. Oh, a small mark. It can be hidden by your hair." That information was for the sake of survival, not vanity.

Law smiled again. "Thank you, doctor. I'm lucky to have you in charge of my recovery. Sorry that I tried to hurt you and Luffy."

"It wasn't us you were trying to hurt, but you couldn't differentiate."

"No. That's right. I couldn't. But I don't know what I'd do if I hurt either one of you."

Chopper smiled.

"You're just a softie, aren't you?"

Law looked across at the innocent creature.

"Chopper?"

"Hmm?"

Law coloured slightly. "I know this might sound strange, but can you check that no-one's assaulted me again?"

"Physically? I would have seen it on your body when I dressed it, when I took the catheter out."

"Right," Law said, grim-faced. "I mean sexually, Chopper."

"What?" Chopper was confused. "Who?"

Law closed his eyes again, and placed his hand over his eyes. "The nightmares were very graphic, realistic, set in this room. Not you. Not Luffy. I know it's stupid because we'd already made camp with Shanks in the dream, and we're not there yet, but it would set my mind at ease."

He didn't want to talk about the shock he'd get as a teenager, waking in the middle of the night, realizing that Doflamingo was sleeping next to him, and the aches and pains, the stickiness, that indicated he'd been used while he'd been asleep. Worse still, perhaps, when he woke in the middle of the act, the massive dick jarring his slender form.

"Please. We can see if the other injuries sustained have lessened."

Chopper had his doctor face on. He got up and locked the door, grabbed a stool and told Law to roll over.

"Yosh. Let's do this."

Law's body tensed. "Tony-ya, please tell me what you're going to do at every step. He exhaled into the pillows. Tensed again. "It keeps the panic away."

"Okay, Law," and Chopper placed a reassuring hoof on the tattooed back. "Gloves on."

* * *

 **A/N: Law spends a lot time in bed in this Fic – Next chapter sees a change of scenery.**

 **MikaGu** : Thank you! I love this description describing my fic _With the right amount of whump!Law and #EverybodyLovesLaw._ I guess that's what it's all about. I like the scene with Robin too. Thanks for commenting on it. Law is loyal though. No (willing) polyamory in this fic ;-). Zoro. Yes. What to do with him . . . ?

 **Thanks to all** **for comments, favourites and follows.**


	11. Chapter 11 - Party on the Red Force

**A/N** **Warnings** : Mature content, language, implications of past sexual/physical abuse (not much - more conversation, but it's there).

* * *

 **Chapter 11: Party on the Red Force**

* * *

Law wasn't happy that he wasn't one hundred percent when it came time to meet Shanks, but he was a lot better than he had been. The training he'd had before and after he'd removed his brand, and the rest, physically and mentally shaped him up. Somewhat. The captivity under both Doflamingo and the marines, those two years, had triggered a million neural pathways back to a time he never felt safe and where he had to fight for his identity. But he would. He didn't survive that bastard to succumb to him in memories and nervous reaction.

Zoro and he sparred, the latter recognising that Law was at a disadvantage, but not making any more moves on him, or disparaging him in the way he did after they'd cut out the seastone chip. Law knew he'd slowed the Strawhats down – a rescue and two operations on the open sea – but Akainu was as much after Luffy, if not more, as him. If they split up, they were less of a target. The world was big though. There were other pirates to track down, and corrupt deals to make. As much as Law wasn't fully healed, he _was_ getting stronger.

News got through to them that Doflamingo and Vergo were still imprisoned, their connections keeping them from the executioner's block. Both Law and Luffy had similar reactions to that news. They could kill Luffy's brother, Ace, because he was the son of the pirate king, and track down Luffy because he was the son of the revolutionary army leader, Dragon; they could threaten to publicly rape and kill Law, because he too carried the middle name "D" – Doflamingo would have been sure to tell them – and he was a convenient scapegoat. But the pink feathered bastard and the traitor to the marines were considered less monstrous, despite the unrelenting cruelty of their actions and attacks against the people they governed, and other marines even. Of course their cruelty to Law didn't begin to come into it.

Pirates weren't people. Law knew that. Attacks against them were always going to be explained away. He'd been raised by them and he was one of them, but he'd also been very loved by his parents, before the World Government had killed them. He'd been loved by his sister, by Cora-san, in that weird way he had. And yes, that man had saved him, as he'd told Doflamingo in Dressrosa, or he'd be as uncaring as Doflamingo. As vindictively cruel.

The man was insane. Of course, he and Vergo were also pirates, but Doflamingo's connections to the world nobles kept them safe-ish. And their underground connections, their sheer brute strength and money.

Law took a sip of his ale, and looked across at the still, grey seas. He knew he'd committed crimes, and he had killed men, and his power could be macabre, but he healed, too, as his parents had wanted him to, and he wasn't so fucked in the head that he wanted to subjugate another to his whims and desires in the way any of those powerful men, and their bootlickers, had done to him. He'd never wanted to own anyone, knowing too well from experience the horrors of belonging to another. Much of his crew were former slaves.

He sat away from the party below. It was welcoming Luffy, he knew, though he knew there was some goodwill his way due to Law having saved him after Akainu brought him to the brink of death at Marineford, and a general dislike and knowledge of Doflamingo. Only a few knew just how appallingly he'd been treated under that bastard. Shanks might have been one of them. He remembered the Yonko sometimes doing business with Doflamingo when he was a teenager.

He really didn't need their attention though, and he knew he was distrusted by some due to that association, but for now, he was grateful for the refuge Shanks was offering.

Zoro walked over. Law eyed him cautiously. Like Law though, he wasn't a big talker and usually distanced himself from the general Strawhats' melee. He liked his beer and sake though, and that was closer to the rambunctious emperor. Zoro had deserted the party for now and slid beside the Heart pirate. Law stared ahead, face stoic, a slight sneer gracing it. Kikoku was nearby, as always.

"Law, you're a captain. Why aren't you down there with Shanks and Luffy?"

Both men looked over to where the redhead emperor and the Strawhat were belting out a bawdy shanty, joined by most members of either crew it seemed. Law returned his gaze to Roronoa, flicked his eyes over him then stared ahead.

Captain, not whore now?

"I'm not at full capacity," Law growled, and it was Zoro's turn to quickly gauge the man beside him. No, he wasn't. Zoro knew the Heart pirate was strong enough to take on the average men of Shanks' crew, but his own powers might not be strong enough to withstand Shanks' haki, even in a dormant state. He'd come to them in a bad state, and the two operations had slowed the healing process.

Not to mention the mindfucks. He was sorry he'd added to that. He just couldn't believe that Law had that brand at that time. Habit, and he now saw it as shameful in terms of what he'd said to Law and what he'd done. The bags under Law's eyes had decreased somewhat, but it seemed to be two steps forward, one step back. He could imagine what had happened while he was in captivity, and he didn't know what it would do to someone as proud as Law. To anyone.

Zoro had been worried about Luffy. There was that. But both men seemed to flourish under the support of the other. Law, a little softer, Luffy, a little more considerate, if that were possible – nobody could really believe it. More importantly, the deep grieving he could sense from Luffy since Ace's death abated. Law slowly trusted more. Them at least, the other Strawhats, though Zoro didn't know if he'd ever regain Law's trust. He noted that his hand hadn't left his nodachi, but it rarely did. Still, his grip wasn't relaxed.

"You wouldn't be there anyway. Even if you were in top shape."

Law raised his face, his eyes glaring, and spoke to the air around him, "I suppose not." He didn't like crowds, drunk men. Caught up in chaos wasn't his ideal. "What do you want, Roronoa-ya?" He placed his drained tankard on the deck.

Zoro knew he'd screwed it up with Law, and no wonder. He knew it was only Law's vulnerable position, being in another crew on the open seas and not being one hundred percent that had prevented him from slicing him up after the event. If he'd been in complete control of his powers, at his peak physical and mental power, it wouldn't have even happened. He would have been extremely lucky to get close enough to touch him like he did. Attack him.

Zoro knew there was a time and a place, particularly if Luffy was going to continue with Law, and Robin and Chopper had very sweet spots for him as well.

"I'm sorry, Law. For what I did to you in the sick bay, when Sanji removed the ear cuff. For what I thought, for what I said." But you really shouldn't be so damned goodlooking, he mused as he caught Law's confused and angry stare.

"I don't have the brand anymore, so now I'm worthy of your respect? I had to flense my own fucking skin to get it?" Though he'd wanted that damn thing off, no matter what. Somnolent, but threatening. A voice like aged whiskey. He looked directly at Zoro. The swordsman could practically see sparks of anger.

Law still recalled that dream, those fucking nightmares. He'd read enough psychology, as well as books on physiognomy, to know that it didn't mean he desired Zoro in anyway, that he wanted it to happen. It was more like his fears playing out so he could face them. But he was always so defenceless in those dreams and they were so persistent in their damnation and justification Well, maybe that was what the fear was. He was dreading the day when the dream world became his psychological reality.

He hadn't let Chopper or Luffy know who featured in that particular dream, but they both knew he'd refused to sleep in the infirmary if Zoro was keeping watch there, for whatever reason. When he was recovering, he tried to make sure he wasn't in any situation where he was alone with him, where others weren't about. With training, with his health being restored step-by-step, with healing of the flensed mark, the threat lessened.

Zoro shrugged. "I was on adrenaline. It wasn't too long after we'd crossed Akainu to get you, even though he wasn't nearby, thank god. Then we had to fight those thugs at the port just before we left, and seeing the captain cut up like that, seeing him with you, it was all just too much on top of no sleep and a bottle of sake. I didn't know."

Law grimaced. He recalled the smell now. He knew body chemicals could combine to make people act far out of character. If he were weaker though, he wondered how far Zoro would have got? Oh, he was physically weak at the time, and mentally exhausted, but Zoro knew he had strength.

"All people should be respected, Zoro."

Zoro tipped his head, his one eye Law's way. Law was slouched over his long legs, drawn up knees.

"All?"

Law misread the comment and quickly turned away. Zoro noted the fist ball up.

"Hey, not you, surgeon. You've actually managed to calm Luffy down."

Both of them looked to the deck as Sanji only just stopped the Strawhat captain and Usopp from falling into the sea. They both snorted and shut up just as quickly.

"You owe each other a lot."

Law looked back at him. Eyes deep. "We do."

Zoro scratched the back of his head. "Nah, I was thinking of that bird." He noted the slight tenseness from Law.

Law nodded in agreement. "Okay, not all. Fuck that prick up if you ever see him."

"You done fighting him?"

"Maybe. It was harrowing being caught again," he rested back. Those ugly, ugly memories. Luffy had given him a smooth stone to centre himself. It worked now as he pulled it from his pocket and turned it between his fingers. He looked back over at Zoro.

"No-one asks to be born or made a slave. No-one. No one person's destiny is to be above or below another. The choices we make often determine who we are, but circumstance and reaction to circumstance are sometimes the only options we have, and they _can_ break a man.

"Everyone, even Doflamingo, has a story. It doesn't make his actions right, or make me hate him any less, but I know people are not just one thing or the other. I accept your apology Zoro, because we've been sparring and you've treated me fairly. But I won't forget."

Law had his hat low on his face. Zoro wished he would forget, but that was the price he had to pay.

"Mah. That's fair. I dishonoured the way of the sword."

Too damn right, thought Law furiously, his head buried into his knees, his hands brought about them, his body language definitely away from Zoro. But he sighed. The way of the sword. It did ask them to rise above themselves.

"You, on the other hand, maintained it, Law. Thank you for not turning Luffy against me."

Law contemplated Zoro's words. "I don't think I could ever do that. Not because I'm noble, but because Luffy is loyal. You know as well as I do that your crew would turn against me if I took you out. It was quite the bind you put me in."

Zoro nodded.

"Self-preservation is also maybe some aspect of the way of the sword."

"Or sacrifice, thank you, Law."

The dark haired man looked at him, curious, and then rose to stretch his legs. He might have sacrificed himself, but only for his own sake, not Zoro's.

"You're not full strength, let me go with you."

The tall pirate huffed. Annoyed.

"As you wish. Help me find Chopper. We can hang out and do dastardly pirate deeds like read medical tomes together."

"As _you_ wish."

Law nodded, pocketed the smooth gem, and they descended into the rabble below.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

It was a mistake. It was too crowded. Shanks had a powerful crew. Fortunately, most let him through with little trouble, but it was cloying, especially after Roronoa triggering unwanted memories. He felt a tug on his leg just as it seemed Luffy had spotted him and was going to pull him into the mosh pit of drunken revellers. Robin. Bless. One of her hands was guiding him. To sanctuary, he hoped.

It stopped outside a room, and he saw Sanji on the door. The hand seemed to have a cloth in its fingers that it waved at him before disappearing with it, back to Robin, some kind of handkerchief? Zoro had wandered off somewhere, probably thinking he was still guiding Law.

The Heart pirate guessed that the cloth was what he was going to swap himself with. He teleported himself into the room, hoping he'd end up somewhere not too embarrassing. He'd have to negotiate his way past blackleg otherwise, and he was all about "protecting the ladies." There were only two of them in two shiploads full of men, so he actually understood the sentiment. He wondered how his own crew members got on. However, Robin and Nami were more than capable of looking after themselves, but it was easier to not have to fight. He knew.

On deck, a cloth fluttered where Law had been.

Robin must have told Nami she'd invited him, because there was no shriek with his sudden arrival in the room. Right smack bang in the middle. She just looked up from her magazine and gave him a greeting as Law rearranged his clothes and nodded at her. Robin simply extended her hand.

Ever since she'd found him battling his demons in the darkest storage room of the Thousand Sunny she'd been unstinting in her support. He was so grateful for her reserve and acceptance. He took her hand, sat down beside her, took off his hat, and rested Kikoku behind the couch. He ruffled his hat hair. She continued to read her magazine, but but kept her palm encased in his.

"Thank you," he murmured, and she merely squeezed his fingers. He smiled lightly, closed his eyes and let Chopper, who'd come trotting over, nuzzle his other arm so he could climb up on his lap. He lifted it, felt the tiny reindeer's weight, and could think of no better place to be on the ship.

The party continued outside, and they heard Sanji murmur, chatting with a passing pirate and then trading insult with Zoro as he passed. Nami looked up and over at the strange trio in front of her. She didn't know what Robin and Law had going, but she knew it wasn't a threat to Luffy, and Luffy knew that too. As for Chopper, he admired Law's medical skill, and the respect was mutual. All three were asleep. She knew Law didn't sleep much, so she guessed he'd catch up in the few moments while he knew he could, relatively safe, at least from interruption. She really felt for him. Escaping a fucked up past, only to be dragged right back into it.

Robin was snuggled into Law's side, and Law had his arms around Chopper to prevent him from falling. It was too cute. She knew that Law and Robin somehow connected as the sole survivors of their ravaged lands. She stood up, and pulled a blanket from a space above the chairs, and folded it over them, careful not to cover Chopper completely. Robin opened her eyes for a second with a small smile, and brought it around her. Nami, the ship's navigator, wondered what the weather would hold for them over the next few days.

When she next looked up, about half an hour later, Law was awake, looking to the side, as his companions slumbered on him.

"You make a good pillow, Law."

"Apparently."

She enjoyed his small smile as he looked down at Chopper. He still withdrew from most if they crowded him or touched him unexpectedly, but Nami noticed that he was more comfortable around women, and he was pretty good with most of the crew. He had to be with Luffy. The exception was Zoro. She wondered why sometimes. They were similar in many ways.

Law knew he wasn't getting soft, but he wondered if he'd ever be able to face Doflamingo again. He never wanted to see the man again in his life. The last encounter had decimated all his reserves, but he knew he'd never have peace until the war lord was well and truly incapacitated. And then, after him or at the same time, Vergo. He didn't think he could remove the admirals though. That would take a concerted effort. He let out a small sigh. Wouldn't it be nice to lead a quiet life like this? He wondered at and envied those who'd always had it.

The door flew open, Sanji fluttering behind Shanks, looking surprised to see Law. Shanks too powerful for Sanji to do anything but glower, his cigarette hanging from his lip, his blond fringe falling over his scowling face. The emperor's aura filled the room. Law brought his attention to him. Had no choice really. Half an hour had been as good a sanctuary as any.

"There you are, Trafalgar, you seadog. Hanging out with the ladies when no-one else is allowed entry?" Shanks bawled, his easy-going face wide with a smile. His eyes weighing up the situation, the captain.

"He was invited," Nami murmured. Sanji looked furious before storming outside.

"You get your own invite?" A raised eyebrow.

Neither Robin nor Chopper stirred – some pirates they were – so Law remained seated.

"Sorry, Shanks-ya. I'd stand, but . . ." and he gestured to the two.

Shanks took it in and his laughter filled the room.

"You're domesticated, Trafalgar? The Surgeon of Death? The Don Quixote underling?"

Law's eyes narrowed, and then he shrugged. Luffy trusted Shanks. He virtually had to shield his eyes from the man's energy. He felt Kikoku rattle. He reached his arm back to still his sword, a fine balancing act with Chopper still on his lap, and Shanks reached for his own scabbard.

Law shook his head to show he meant no harm. "Sorry. She's a demon sword. I'm just calming her."

Shanks laughed again. "I seem to have that effect on my environment." Law could see it.

The emperor sat beside him. Emperor. Beside him. Nami's eyes grew wide. Then again, Law was a captain, as was Luffy, but Luffy and Shanks went years back. The older man looked at him expectantly. It was obviously Law's turn to talk.

"Tell me, Shanks-ya, do you keep slaves?" Law asked quietly, his hands in Chopper's fur. They kept him from being too swept away. The reindeer slept, and sighed contentedly. Nami frowned at the unusual conversational gambit.

Shanks' observational haki was acute. As emperor, all of his skills were fully awakened. This young pirate had done extraordinary things against Doflamingo and Vergo. He had saved Luffy's life after Marineford, escaping Akainu's attacks with Luffy. And he'd been persecuted, abandoned, abused by nearly everyone he'd come across in his younger life. Shanks could feel that deep pain, sorrow and defence. Those within the inner circles, very inner, knew he'd been a slave and just what kind.

He knew not to touch him, but he did turn to look at him. He felt all the barriers, and could feel that Akainu and Kizaru had marked him very deeply too, and oh so many others. He also noted that he had confidence enough to not be perturbed at all to be found with two of the Strawhats nestled into him. Shanks could sense the core of strength, and actual generosity within him. The kindness that Luffy recognised. His nervousness was natural, but not overwhelming.

"You have nothing to worry about, Law."

Law looked across at him, and then away. He was very close. "It's over. I know you can take care of yourself, but insanely strong men want your hide."

Had had it, Law thought idly.

"You're under our protection, and no, we don't keep slaves. Only free ones who want to join the crew. Sometimes we are the ones freeing them," Shanks smiled. Much like Law himself. He'd freed Jean Bart to join the Hearts crew.

Law tipped his head against the wall. That was a relief.

"You're not at your peak, are you?"

Law turned to him, worried.

"But you're strong enough for most of my men, don't worry. The others are arseholes, but won't challenge you until you can properly match them. And I think they'll be sorry."

Law was grateful that he didn't actually directly mention Law's forced servitude. He would own it. He would. But it was tiresome to talk about it.

"I don't abide slavery, Law. We judge men from their words and actions, not their pasts. Not what they've been forced to endure."

Law nodded. The haki emanating from Shanks was like electricity. The emperor and the heart pirate both sensed Robin wake. She pretended to keep sleeping. Law felt warm beside her.

"We know you have your own crew, and by the way, they're on the way here."

"They are?" He smiled quickly, thinking of the Heart Pirates, of Bepo. His face clouded. "Are Kizaru and Akainu after them?" He wanted to stand up all of a sudden and pace.

"They're travelling underwater for the most part. The ocean is watching over them. So are the red haired pirates, and what's left of the Whitebeard crew. Marco is keeping an eye on them. The Whitebeards will be sailing with us then, for a while. Once we heard of your escape, everyone sprang into action."

Again Law felt relief and a bit of bewilderment that these powerful crews were looking out for him. Luffy, despite being crazily connected, was not always aware of the who's who of the buccaneer world, but the doctor tried to stay abreast of it, when he could. He pulled Kikoku forward in front of him, to have something to hold onto. Shanks again touched his own sword's hilt for a second. Robin stretched up, gave Law an affectionate brush of his cheek with her fingers and then took the sleeping Chopper from his lap. Joined Nami on the opposite couch. Law looked at her with affection, and Shanks wondered, but he knew Luffy and Law were tight.

"We tried to keep an eye on you too, Law. Really, after everything you did at Marineford. Doflamingo just had too many connections with his deal with Kaidou and his influence over the marines and the world nobles. No-one knew where you were. We kept looking. Your crew and the Strawhats most of all."

Law nodded with dead eyes. It was good to know he hadn't been abandoned, or forgotten by the outside world, but it sure felt like it – in the annals of hell. He wondered how the marines had been able to eventually find the place. They probably knew about it all the time, and Law's imprisonment, and they'd just turned a blind eye to Doflamingo until they no longer could.

"How is that man even still alive?" Shanks murmured, as Law sat forward, his tattooed fingers interlaced around the nodachi.

Law turned his head to look at him. It was a question he'd asked himself often. If there was a god, what was it doing about Doflamingo?

"He's crazy powerful," Law returned.

"Not as powerful as the fleet admiral." And Law granted him that. Perhaps. Both men sat in silence for a while.

"Why did you choose the nodachi, Law?" Shanks had always been curious. Law eyed Shanks' sabre, and thought he'd have to ask the same question another time.

"Diamanté chose it for me, but it's also useful for slicing through mountains," he grinned lazily, sat back against the wall. Absently folded the blanket.

Precise, self-sufficient movements. Feminine? It didn't come across that way. Feline. Efficient. Economic. Shanks laughed and again recalled the man's strength when he wasn't held back by seastone and other injuries.

"Show-off."

"Well, I haven't stopped a war single-handedly yet."

"That was Coby."

"Brave Kid."

"You escaped that war though, and rescued Luffy. We'll always be grateful."

Law shrugged. Shanks had of course ultimately stopped the war just by turning up. Well, a little more than that.

"Anyway, Law," and Shanks felt he'd become familiar enough to throw his arm around the younger man's shoulders. He noticed the flinch, but he didn't move away. "As said, you're safe here. I know Akainu and Kizaru treated you with contempt."

Apart from what he felt, there'd been pictures in the paper of the slash marks that had fucked up Law's back and tattoos, of the bedraggled and beaten pirate chained and helpless, barefoot, being pulled after marines when they'd captured him. Not much written of Vergo or Doflamingo though, other to say they'd been arrested. "I know the World Government was going to make you a scapegoat for the crimes of the Don Quixote family. And I know you were maybe the ultimate victim of those crimes."

Law remained stoic.

"I committed no crimes for the family during the time I was free, nor after my recapture. I was a prisoner. They clipped me with seastone. Doflamingo couldn't force me to use my powers." Though he'd done some work as a doctor.

Shanks looked at his hand. "They took your nails?"

"Borsalino," Law murmured, giving Kizaru's alternative name. Running the fingers of one hand over the growing nails of the other. Thinking of the admiral's threat to have him gangbanged before he was executed, then going through with it with Akainu. He swallowed.

"So we're all glad you got free, kid, and we plan on keeping you that way."

Law expressed his thanks with a curt nod.

"Man, you fought Fujitora and got away. I heard you're a mean hand at disintegrating meteors. What's a crew of eighty or so when no-one's pinning you down with seastone or those infernal strings?"

Law tried not to wipe his hand up his neck, but couldn't stop himself. Shanks noted the fine scars there from years of abuse, and on his wrists. Man, no wonder this guy had a reputation for being hard and cold. No wonder he seemed frightened every time mention of Doflamingo was made.

"You too, huh?"

Doflamingo's strings could physically control anyone into doing what they didn't want to. They also worked as tools of restraint and weapons.

"He almost had me kill Benn once, fucker," Shanks said when Law didn't answer.

"He made me shoot my dog," Law murmured, and more. He'd hurt more people because of that man. Law knew, was relieved, that Shanks had fallen victim, it didn't make him feel so weak, but he almost couldn't imagine it.

"Haki-infused bamboo," murmured Law. "That'll get me too."

"Vergo," spat Shanks. "None of us knew. You had no voice, Law." He'd removed his arm from Law's shoulder a while before, but was still close enough for their shoulders to lightly touch. Shanks remembered visiting the Family once when the boy was a teen, soon before he escaped for good. For some reason he was between Doflamingo and Vergo at the meeting table. No-one knew Vergo was a marine at the time, outside of the Don Quixote pirates. Law's face was bruised and beaten, his arm in a sling, his expression so angry and hurt. Shanks had enquired what his crime had been.

"Stupid fucker keeps forgetting to call Vergo, Vergo-san," Trebol had laughed. "Ne, ne, Law, why are you so stupid?" he'd called out. Law's face had clouded and he'd kept his head lowered.

Shanks was curious and asked around and learnt that Law put his own strange honorifics on most people's names, 'san' being used for very few. Apparently Vergo only heard that honorific from him when it was used with derision.

After Flevance, Law didn't really trust anyone in authority, didn't trust anyone. Why did soldiers deserve his respect when they'd done what they had? He didn't think about it too much, but there weren't many he gave that honorific to. When he knew its absence pissed Vergo off, after what he'd done to Cora san, he refused to use it, and the boy would get beaten again and again.

Sometimes Shanks wondered that there was any good in him, but there was. It seemed they'd tried to turn him feral or completely compliant, but they never fully succeeded in either. He noticed Law place an open hand across his stomach muscles. Replaying the way Vergo had punched and kicked him there a thousand times.

"Him you can take down, Law. A mountain, next him. I have no doubt. That man deserves a horrible end."

Law nodded with his head once again pressed against the nodachi. After the last two years he didn't know if he'd ever be able to see Vergo again without everything shutting down.

"What I'd give for a quiet life, Red-hair ya," he said, "Those four ...". He shook himself out of it without elaborating.

"You're too powerful, Law. It will be one of the biggest mistakes any of them ever made, treating you so poorly."

"I'd rather kill myself than be captured again."

Shanks nodded gravely. He knew.

"Such sombre topics for such a young pirate, but you've had a sombre life, no?"

Law's gaze showed it was so, but also flickered over with annoyance at the idea of the world of cutthroats out there observing his downfall.

"Well, let's join your man to get some light into those eyes of yours, and you can't escape sharing a drink with the emperor. Smoker, Tashigi, Tsuru, Kureha, an emperor, Luffy and his crew, your crew, they're all on your side. Marco the Phoenix even, Benn Beckham. You could do worse. "

"That I could," Law said, standing and walking out with Shanks, giving Chopper, sitting wide-mouthed in wonder at their conversation, a quick tousle of his fur before leaving. Law was forced to shoot his dog?


	12. Chapter 12 - Agate: Law and Luffy

A/N: **Warnings** : Discussion/Memories of rape, non-consensual sex. Mature Content. Language. Overall, it's _not_ a violent chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 12 – Agate/ Law and Luffy**

* * *

"Law?"

"Mmh?"

The younger pirate, twenty-one to Law's twenty-eight, spooned the older, arms around his chest as they lay in the bed and room Shanks had given them. The Sunny didn't actually have a Captain's Quarters, and Luffy and Law had sought their privacy in the aquarium, on the lawn, on the deck at night when everyone else was asleep, the kitchen, even, though Sanji had to make sure everything was locked down so that Luffy didn't eat it.

Luffy breathed into Law's neck. He reached up and played with one of his earrings for a while, and then ran his hands through Law's black locks. Law leaned into it. Luffy kissed his back, tracing the tattoo there, Kizaru's scars, as he liked to. Kizaru's scars weren't the first, and they weren't the first of the two-year departure either. Law turned around so he was facing Luffy, and brought him closer.

"What is it, Luffy?" He softly kissed his lips, his own hands now threading through the equally dark strands of the Strawhat captain's hair. "What did you want to know?"

Luffy hummed happily, and pulled away. He put his hand on the large heart tattoo on Law's chest. He never imagined he'd be with someone with so much ink. With this man he cared so deeply for.

"Did they ever use haki? Armament haki?" He said it casually, and continued to trace the design, but it was a huge question. Chopper had asked the same.

You're ruining the mood, Law remembered saying when he'd first met Luffy at Sabaody, when he'd shrunk after using one of his devil fruit tactics against the marines. That had been a fun day. That part of it, anyway.

"Who?" Law asked, but he knew. He rose up off the bed slightly, resting his head on his elbow, looking down at Luffy. Luffy's eyes took him in. The deep grey, the long lashes, the permanent bags under the eyes, the gentle heart on display for him. Law knew though. Luffy knew he knew. He went to say the names, and Law leant across instead and covered his mouth with his own before he could hear them spoken.

He kissed along Luffy's jaw, traced the shell of his ear with his tongue, and then down his lover's front, his fingers lightly touching the scar left from the operation he'd performed so long ago. Luffy's hands were in his hair and on his shoulders. Then he rolled over, onto his back. He sat up slightly, slouching against the headboard, and Luffy rolled onto him now, looking up into his face. _Well?_ was the expression.

Looking a bit like a fish out of water, he twisted his fingers through Law's, felt where the nails were growing back, and squeezed them softly.

"They couldn't feel much if they fucked me while using haki," Law said, removing his hands from Luffy's and running them through the Strawhat's hair as the younger pirate rested on his hard stomach muscles, loving the fact that Law was breathing, and his own body was rising and falling with the breath. They'd survived. They'd both survived and they were together.

"I felt it, though."

Luffy inhaled, not Law.

"Vergo fucked me for two reasons, both when I was young and when they caught me this last time." He recited these facts without emotion. It was the only way he could deal with them.

Luffy felt Law's hands stop for a moment in his hair. Law hoped they never got their hands on Luffy now that they knew Luffy was with him, or did they? They probably wouldn't spare him the same ignominy. Or it could just be him, as Kizaru said. Even when he'd met Kid the tall redhead had somehow wanted to throw him down and go at it. He was promptly dissuaded.

Luffy could feel that faint tremor Law got when he talked about these events, despite his apparent calm. He thought that talking would ease the pain they caused, but he was never sure.

"One reason was for pleasure, his, the other, for punishment, mine. He'd use Haki if it was the last. And he hates me, so he used it often. I think it actually gave him more pleasure to hurt and humiliate me than the actual sex. But that must be the same for all of them, right? No matter what they used."

Luffy was rigid.

"All four?"

Law sighed.

"I think the admirals knew they'd kill me, so they only used haki to beat me, and you know what that feels like. Doflamingo is too selfish. I can't recall him using it, though sometimes his strings had haki when they pierced me. But Vergo . . ."

He recalled Vergo beating the shit out of Cora-san when Law had unwittingly brought him to their impromptu camp, where Cora had fed him his devil fruit. He'd been shot stealing it. Law had thought Vergo was a trusted marine, not Dofllamingo's righthand man, not a double-agent, as was Cora it turned out. The latter working to undermine Doflamingo and the former to support him.

Vergo beat Cora to within an inch of his life in that land piled up with snow. Then he'd beaten thirteen-year old Law, with full armament haki, because he'd yelled out to _Vergo_ to stop beating Cora, instead of Vergo- _san_. He was a really small thirteen as well, almost dead from amber lead syndrome. Nothing like the tall man he grew into. Of course the beating was for more than that, but Vergo had not pulled any punches. He'd left Cora near death, and Law should have been hospitalised.

"Fucking Vergo," Luffy spat out.

"San," Law laughed softly.

San. Luffy recalled. "Do you ever call him that, Law?"

It took a while for Law to answer, and he guessed Law was remembering. Was it fair for Luffy to do this? Could they ever move on if he kept bringing Law back to those days, to the threat to his future?

"Not if I can help it," he murmured, wishing Luffy would just kiss him, that he could bravely say he stood defiant to Vergo every time, but he guessed these things needed to be talked about. He usually felt better afterwards, knowing that Luffy still loved him, still wanted him.

"But sometimes you couldn't help it?" Luffy looked up, one eye open.

"Sometimes I couldn't." Law ran his hand through his hair. "I didn't learn, Luffy, as Trebol, Vergo, any one, these cracked ribs, this flayed back, will tell you. If I could stand, and if I could stand it, he could go fuck himself. There was no way I was going to call that dog _san_. But all that usually happened was that I got fucked, and I got fucked like a dog. And when it's with armament haki, no fucking preparation – Jesus." The bitter look on Law's face, and the catch to his voice said it all.

"By that time, 'san' wasn't enough. He was Vergo- _sama_ , Sir, Master, Brightest Star in the Evening Sky, Celestial of the Celestials, whatever the fuck he wanted me to call him, and for me to call myself, I did it. I'd offer to suck him off, though that thing was no joy in my mouth, just so there was some kind of lubrication. With haki it really didn't make that much difference. He'd say it was my calling."

He'd call Vergo, Vergo-san, with snot running down his face and bawling his eyes out, Law thought. Even recently. If he was conscious. How could Luffy look at him? Kiss him? Think where his mouth had been.

Law slid down into the bed, Luffy still on him, and tried to unravel himself so that he could turn away, bring the blankets over him, but Luffy wouldn't let him. They both rolled onto their sides, but with Luffy buried into Law's chest. Law gave up trying to extract himself.

"I don't know that anything would have been any easier if I'd used the preferred honorific. He would have just found another excuse." He recalled, again, being on all fours. Vergo with a crop, was it? Whipping his flank, and that fucking armament haki on his dick. Had he chained him around the neck? Yanking it up like he agreed to be in this BDSM mindfuck. And with Vergo, it was never just the sex. The guy couldn't stop himself, even though Doflamingo liked him without too many bruises. He'd beat him from one side of the cell or room or wherever he was, constantly kicking him in the gut, pulling his hair back, smashing his face into the ground. Whatever it took, and well beyond that.

By the end of it, Law would be a quivering mess, begging Vergo-Sama to please stop, that he understood he was deserving of the punishment, that he was such a fuck-up he'd invariably be punished again, and that he was more than thankful for the attention. For the guidance. For the discipline. Law's lip curled in pained remembrance, scorn. Much of it turned inwards. Unfairly.

"I never got the better of Vergo in an argument. At least not when I was fifteen years younger than him as a teenager, nor chained up and with seastone. I thought I'd got him at Punk Hazard, but I suspect it's not only that bamboo staff that's possessed. I don't know if I could face him now."

Luffy kissed Law so gently. "Can Bepo split mountains in two with his karate kicks? Because someone on your crew can," he murmured into his lips.

Law gave a soft laugh as Luffy's tongue slipped around Law's own, and then he withdrew and kissed his eyes, the curve of those beautiful cheek bones. Law felt wetness. He stopped Luffy for a second. Held his chin and studied his face. He brought his thumb forward and wiped the tears.

"You're crying? You could easily punch your way through a mountain. It's not that big a deal."

Luffy smiled, but looked down briefly before holding Law's gaze, his face now serious. "I couldn't help you, Law. You were gone, and I couldn't help you."

Law's own smile was soft. He brushed his finger across Luffy's nose. "I was a teenager for most of it. You didn't know me."

Luffy cried harder. "That's worse. No-one knew, right?"

Law closed his eyes again for a second. When he opened them, Luffy took comfort in the deep grey.

"Plenty of people knew. At least in the inner circle. I was a slave, remember? A rebellious, talented and apparently favoured slave. But I was owned."

"You're not helping."

"Aren't you meant to be cheering _me_ up?"

Luffy's smile returned.

"It happened again, though, right? Recently. You're remembering recently."

Law pulled himself up again, untangling himself from the other captain, leaned back against the headboard once more, hand behind his head

"Oof. I'm remembering it all."

"I won't let anyone hurt you again," Luffy said furiously, sitting on him now.

Law gave an appreciative nod, but he knew all the protection in the world wasn't a guarantee against Doflamingo. Not to mention the two admirals.

"There's an old Buddhist tale, Luffy." Luffy lay against him, and again Law played with his hair. "A grandfather and a granddaughter have only one another. The grandfather urges his granddaughter to look after him, and he'll look after her. However, she refuses and urges them to individually look after their own selves, then they'll always be there for one another."

Luffy just looked at him, puzzled. Law had made it as prosaic as he could. He tried again.

"I appreciate your offer, Luffy, and I'll admit, it was bad luck, or maybe fate, poor planning, that led to my captivity last time, and I really don't know if I can face any of those men again, even as I feel my strength increase. They've fucked my psyche over and how. But look after yourself. It's the best way to take care of me. And vice versa."

Luffy knew Law was strong. It's what he loved about him. Self-reliant, and protective, loyal in his own way.

"If I see him . . ."

"If you see Doflamingo or Vergo, take them out. I'll breathe easily when they are. As for the admirals, I hope you've got enough self-preservation to not take them on yet." He placed his hand on the x-scar that really Akainu had left on Luffy's chest.

"You'll stay with Shanks?"

"If he'll have me."

"Of course." Luffy slid to the side and snuggled into Law.

"I'm a fugitive's fugitive now, Luffy. There's some protection for me under an emperor's wing. The marines don't know I'm here yet, and maybe they're too wary to mess with a yonko."

"You'll stay as a doctor. Not as a red-hair."

Law nodded. He couldn't be subordinate to anyone. He was grateful Shanks hadn't forced the issue. With the Whitebeards loosely affiliated with Shanks' crew now there was more than enough work for him and the doctors already resident in the crews.

"Your crew?"

"It's up to them. Shanks says he's happy for them to join his fleet, but I wouldn't really be their captain in that situation, so I'm not sure. I'm looking forward to seeing Bepo though."

"Me too." Luffy knew that both Chopper and Bepo could heal Law in ways that he couldn't. In fact, Luffy had seen Bepo more often over the last two years than Law had.

"I'll ask him about his mountain decimating skills when I do."

Luffy's face lit up. He figured that meant destroying the fuck out of something. But then he grew solemn, as he sometimes did. Maybe something he'd done too much of lately. "I wish you could come with us." His hair brushed against Law's chest.

Law nodded, his arm around Luffy. "I'm too much of a target, and," he paused, was quiet.

Luffy pulled back from Law and looked into his face. His eyes flared. "They didn't." Law was going to say they broke him. He'd said it before. The Hearts' Captain picked at the bedspread.

"It would be too soon if I never saw them again. If they captured me again," and both Luffy and he knew that was Law's greatest fear. He'd spent enough years of his life he most debased of captivities or enslavement. "I'd have to kill myself, Luffy. I couldn't do it again." No matter how much he loved Luffy or anyone else.

He was so quiet. He hadn't pinned his hope on anyone getting him out of it with the latest capture, though it would have been nice, he wouldn't have refused it, but like his previous escape, he knew it would probably be up to him to see an opportunity, and try to make the most of it.

But he also remembered all the failed attempts when he was younger, being dragged back kicking and screaming, bloodied and beaten, and only to be used as a punching bag and fucktoy all over again. There were so few opportunities. His freedom had been truly limited.

"The marines, Luffy," Law said, throat dry, images from the last time flashing through his mind. His tongue wet his lips for a second, and the ocean floor seeped through him, washed over him, became him. His windpipe stomach and chest area contracted. White noise diffused everything around him, within him. He didn't pull away from Luffy, but he didn't see him either, as he retracted into himself.

Luffy watched, confused at first, as Law brought his hands together in front of his face, the edges of his wrists pressing into his forehead as if they were bound. Restricting him but also protecting him from them all lined up before him while they pushed him to his knees. He couldn't see them with his hands obscuring his face like this. He had no power confined like that. Of course he'd had the chains wound around his arms and midriff at the time, he could feel that too, biting into his body like the snow on Minion Island.

Luffy knew about the assault. From the nightmares, from the fragments Law spoke of. From Robin. With a worried frown, he reached to the side table and picked up a smooth piece of agate. He knelt on the bed in front of Law, and tried to place its small orange form in his lover's upraised palm. They'd done this before. Law wasn't taking hold, but Luffy continued to press it against the softer skin of the heel of his hand, the tips of his own fingers keeping it in place.

"Hold that. You can feel it, right? Feel how smooth it is?" He wrapped his other hand around the curled hand he'd placed it in. Law wasn't restrained. He didn't have to hold his wrists up like that. He wanted him to come back to the present.

The stone dropped, gaining no traction or attention at all from the Heart pirate. Luffy caught it before it hit the sheets, and immediately placed and pushed it against the skin again, so Law had something tactile to anchor himself to, something tangible to hold. It dropped again, and once more. On the fourth try he felt Law respond and the long fingers curled lightly around the gem, pressing onto Luffy's own fingers.

It was slow, but Law didn't let go. Gradually, Luffy noted his fingers feel, wrap more tightly around the stone. Luffy extracted his own fingers. Law nodded slightly, his eyes, closed, the clenched hand holding the gem now lifted to his forehead, where he flattened the palm, and felt the agate against skin. Luffy imagined it cool to the touch, it never warmed up too much. Law's face still showed discomfort, his breath a little shallow, but he'd dropped the other hand to his lap. Good.

"You can feel that, Law? Nice and smooth in this room. In this room on Shanks' ship. In this room on Shanks' ship, here with me, Luffy. Safe." Luffy's voice was calm, steady, separate from his usual enthusiasm and reckless rush and tumble of words. He took Law's other hand, and put his face against Law's, his body close to him, as he sensed Law's tightness lessen. It was okay to do so now.

"I can feel your heart, Law. Can you feel mine?"

He placed his hand on the dark-haired man's chest. Law's heart was beating a mile a minute. He brought his lover's spare hand to his own chest. Law lowered the hand holding the gem.

"Match it. Match my heart. Breathe in. Match the breath." Luffy repeated as many times as he needed too, and Law seemed to be connecting, bit by bit, glimpses of light, snatches of song, seen and heard through the static that surrounded him, permeated him, before being sucked back in. However, with each tiny connection, each second of breath that joined Luffy's constant and patient cycle, his heartbeat slowed, regulated until he was inhaling and exhaling in tandem with the Strawhat captain. Little by little bit, the feel of concrete scraping against his cheek faded, the catcalls from Vergo and the other men.

He was here with Luffy, instead of in the fucking jail. On a firm bed on the open seas. He could hear the ocean, the call of the seagulls following the ship. Maybe he was still in danger, but in a lot less danger. Keeping the gem clasped in his hand, he sank to the bed, and wrapped his arms tightly around Luffy, bringing him down with him. His body shaking.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"Don't you mean, thank you?"

Law grinned. Weakly.

"That too."

"You do the same for me when I dream about Ace."

Law nodded. It was true. Luffy and he had devised the technique, were still working on it. Still, he wondered when he was going to be a big bad pirate again, and not a nervous wreck.

"Seems I'll be visiting Shanks a lot this year."

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Both men wondered how they'd do without the other. When Law first came to the ship, it seemed that Luffy had the greater emotional need, considering how upset and clingy he'd been when he was able to see Law again. The Heart pirate was obviously in the worse physical shape, and ultimately, psychological. Luffy had feared that he'd never see the other captain again, and no-one had known about the relationship, so he'd had no-one to turn to while Law was missing. He didn't know why he'd kept it a secret. Maybe because he didn't know absolutely for sure why Law had disappeared. If he didn't talk about it, he didn't have to face another loss.

The whole crew fretted at his absence, and they understood his worry about losing a friend and ally, but there were goals to pursue. They could only look for so long, though they always kept an ear out, and chased up leads, but it was Law's own crew who should have really been taking up the search. Which they did. Luffy couldn't explain the constant buzz of anxiety that lay just below the surface of his skin to his crew, so he filed it away in the drawer of things not to be looked at. The relief at seeing Law again then, was beyond words. He'd hardly been able to remain upright.

Law felt it too, but he was the more reserved of the two, and really, he'd barely been conscious, but he felt so much joy, tentative joy, that Luffy still felt something for him. That he would express it in front of his crew, even if that also put Law's own life in possible danger, was validating, especially after what he'd just escaped. He felt honoured that he could help the younger pirate, still, as battered as he had been.

It had worked out okay, even with the Zoro fuck-up, but they had to tread carefully. Law was only six weeks out of the most brutal incaceration. At first, or really, even up to now, he'd been jumpy and skittish as a cat when it came to intimacy. What had gone down at the marine facility, the jail, had been the final few straws. Kizaru's words. _Other prisoners as powerful as you don't attract the kind of attention you do. You must seek it out. You must like it. You must deserve it_.

Fuck, if not for Smoker's and Kureha's words to the contrary, those condemnations would echo in his head until all else was drowned out. Kizaru and Akainu had definitely taken them to heart when abusing him. He'd rolled over enough. What was it to roll over some more and completely give up? He'd been very close. If Smoker hadn't given him some hope, he would have. It wasn't like he _hadn't_ fought to shape, keep, and maintain his own identity separate from their amoral definitions, it was that he'd fought and failed too damn often.

On the Thousand Sunny, when not enduring the shocking dreams after the flensing of his brand, he relaxed, loved, sought out, and was healed by Luffy's proximity. His hugs, his kisses, lying on the bed next to him. Being allowed to touch him and vice versa, but they hadn't really broached anything too sexual yet, unlike their first liaisons, more than two years ago now.

Chopper had admonished they go slow – Law was exhausted, and also knocked out a lot, recovering, post-op. And slow they went, but it was more than that. Luffy had traced kisses down his body one night and dipped below the line, when both men noticed Law's body grow rigid, and his breath shallow – not in a good way – as Luffy began to tongue his cock. The sensations caused Law to remember whoever had gone down on him over the last two years. It was usually the other way around, but humiliation has a thousand pathways. Doffy, Vergo, sometimes even that snotty, massive bastard Trebol, while pawing his fucking body. He'd guessed he was the reward for something Trebol had done to please Doflamingo.

He'd gripped the bedsheets, his body tense and he'd tried to articulate: _stop_ , but he couldn't. His mouth wouldn't work. Trebol had almost drowned him. Luffy looked up to see his man crying in that silent way he had, having some kind of flashback, and the worse thing was that he was sitting there and just taking it as if he had to, as if he had no choice. He'd stopped immediately and comforted him.

They thought that maybe Law could initiate things, but that was even worse, as being mouthfucked had been as regular as brushing his teeth. He'd just grabbed hold of Luffy's thighs, bunching the loose material of his shorts in his hands, before passing out. That was a doozy of a panic attack. So they'd taken it easy, like a couple of high-schoolers, and as long as mouths and hands stayed away from dicks, Law was okay. It was a shame though, because he was fucking talented, but the reason why he was so talented was indeed shameful, though not on his part.

Would Luffy stay with him with lack of action? By about the fifth week, Law could take Luffy. He was never, or only for the sake of degrading him, allowed to be dominant while captured, and also when he was younger, so the triggers weren't there, or not as deeply implanted. While he was free, he'd been active, the triggers not as strong as they obviously were now, or he'd developed techniques to counter them. So he knew he could enjoy sex, and had done so with Luffy, but hell if anything was helping now.

Luffy didn't mind that Law and himself had to jerk themselves off at times. He knew it would ultimately change, but he was pleased he could give Law something, confidence, intimacy, something, while he took him in and loved being filled by him. When Law came with a shudder and collapsed on Luffy, if the younger man had not yet come, then Law had lost enough of the past to be able to pleasure him in the present. At that time only. Bit by bit they were getting there, but there were always going to be things that would incapacitate Law, at least at the moment, and Luffy cursed Doflamingo again for so destroying avenues of happiness for his partner. For himself too, really.

On this, one of the last few nights they had together, they were wrapped in the sheets after Law had lead them. They held each other so close, once again practically breathing the same breath, and Law, who'd been forced to share so many beds, knew he'd soon have to give up the only man he wanted to lie beside.

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 **Thank you** for those who have read, left comments, favourited and followed.  
That's about the end of the first half of this fic. Not sure how to bring in the second. **Stay tuned**.


	13. Chapter 13 - Voodoo Chile, Bepo!

**A/N** : WARNINGS: NO WARNINGS: It's Bepo! Nothing bad happens in this chapter.

* * *

 **Chapter 13 – Hey Joe**

* * *

Bepo smelt great, except when he rolled in the elephant dung picked up by the wind and thrown onto Zunisha's back. His back being the Kingdom of Zou, which was home to the Mink tribe, Bepo's people. In fact, all of the Minks enjoyed the aroma of elephant dung, or Zunisha's, anyway, as imbued as it was with the weight and wisdom of a thousand years. He just didn't smell great to non-minks.

Each season brought with it a certain delicateness, whether that be the droppings the dung beetles themselves left if it were winter, or the earthy spice of fallen leaves in autumn. The dung beetles secreted different scents year round as well, and only true connoisseurs could discern just what it added to the bouquet of any one dung patty. With a quick sniff they could isolate the sighing breath of departing winter in the early spring batches of manure, and the hopeful gusts of summer in the late.

"They're just jealous," Bepo told his captain. He hadn't loosened the grip he had on his forearm, as if Law was going to take it into his head to get abducted again the minute let go. Law took a pull on his beer, his eyes alight with laughter.

"I told them how to score with the chicks, and the other beauties on Zou, but they wouldn't try it, even though they never stopped their whining about no-one giving them any loving. You should have heard them, Captain, day in day out, it did my head in." Bepo gave a sorry shake of said head.

"Using Eau d'Ordure is a sure thing. Talk about looking a gift horse in the mouth. There's a black market in dried-out patties, particularly the ones that are only available on the fourth full moon of the year. We light blocks of it in our incense burners and we hang our outfits nearby. Every thread and fibre of our clothes are suffused with the fragrance. It's irresistible."

Penguin and Shachi crowded in on Law's other side, rolling their eyes at the story, fighting over who could get a word in edgewise. The four Heart pirates sat at their own table, catching up, while the rest of the crew got to know the Red-hairs, hung out with what was left of the Whitebeard crew, or just caught forty winks in the submarine, now tethered to the Red Force. Shanks looked over from where he shared sake with Benn Beckman and Marco.

"Hmm, he lets some folks close without flinching."

"Dr. Chopper," Benn said.

"Grown men who aren't cute tanuki."

"Luffy."

"Or his boyfriend."

Marco looked up. "He's with Ace's brother?"

Shanks looked at him, understanding. "They're good for each other."

The Phoenix nodded, took a sip of his drink, and looked over to where the bear, the doctor, and the two crewmen played around like kids just out from a day at school, everyone vying for a piece of Law's attention. The dark haired man overwhelmed, but not resentful. He could see the hilt of the long sword the Heart captain carried rising over his shoulder. He must have been holding it secure with his legs.

* * *

"Did you tell Sanji?"

"Sanji got it!" Bepo's head was about to fall off with all the nodding it was doing. "He was willing to try anything if it gave him a chance with the ladies. You haven't seen the Mink women, Captain, but they really are something. And why wouldn't he try? Anyone try? Spanish fly is the loving tongue, and Zunisha's manure is full of them."

"Did it work?" Law smiled into his beer, picturing the impeccable cook coating himself in manure filled with beetle larvae and droppings in a bid to win hearts. Nami would have a fit.

"Ah, boss. Whole Cake Island happened."

Law nodded. Of course. Luffy had filled him in. Law's absence was interspersed with Sanji's own.

Shachi elbowed Law and tipped his head Bepo's way. "He didn't roll in any carcasses though."

Bepo bristled. "Whose carcass would I roll in?" The Minks lived peacefully together, and the idea was repugnant.

"Well you guys eat reptiles, right? What about one of those big arse alligators you're always riding about? Or anything without fur. A hippopotamus?"

"Would you roll in the carcass of a horse?" Bepo drew himself up, all tall and indignant.

"Am I an animal?"

Bepo, Penguin and Law all looked at Shachi.

"Yes."

Shachi coloured and ran his fingers through a puddle of beer left on the table.

"Too cold-blooded," Bepo said, "Or wet. Or both." Hippopotamuses gave him the creeps. He filled up Law's drink and left his crewmates begging. Law filled Bepo's glass and passed the flagon to Penguin and Shachi.

"Anyway, we made him shower the minute the Polar Tang submerged and there were no more Mink lady-bears to make him all gooey-eyed," Penguin said.

Law scritched at the back of Bepo's ears. The bear smiled with pleasure, his eyes closing. Penguin knew what that felt like.

"I'm sorry," the bear said, hanging his head, and they all thought that this time he might actually have something to apologise for. Unless he was apologising for having attracted his captain's affection.

Law's Den-Den mushi vibrated in his pocket. He dropped his hand from the navigator's head and pulled it out. It wore an excitable straw hat. Luffy's voice could be heard all over the ship, shouting Law's name. The doctor blushed slightly, but really didn't give a shit.

"Mugiwara," Bepo said, before his captain could speak. He remembered partying hard with him on Zou, though it wasn't the same without Law.

"Bepo!" They all heard the Strawhat. He'd learnt the bear's name over the last two years, and Bepo was so much easier to say than his lover's family name. "Ask him, Law! Ask him about the mountain!"

Law's smile was mellow, and though he knew his first mate was strong, he doubted he was going to get the better of a mountain. Then again, he wouldn't get the better of Luffy, and it would be best to ask.

"Bepo," he said, keeping the mouthpiece near him, "Luffy wants to know if you can chop down a mountain with one of your karate kicks."

Bepo mulled the question over, all the while trying to still the beating of his heart. The Captain talked about his skills when he wasn't there!

"Cos in Punk Hazard, Law's nodachi did," Luffy screamed down the phone.

But still didn't take out Vergo, Law reflected.

"Devil's fruit," he growled, "And it wasn't fucking Everest."

"Strawhat," Bepo spoke loudly, "Would I be standing next to it?"

"Huh? If you want."

Bepo frowned and gave it some more thought. He took a sip of his beer before answering. Luffy could be heard yelling at Usopp on the other end.

" _Well_ _?_ " Five seconds had passed. It was long enough.

"You know, Luffy, I don't think I could with a karate kick, but maybe I could chop it down with the edge of my hand. I did it to Wild Bill Hillock one time. He was paramecia. There was so much sand once I was through with him I thought Crocodile must be around."

"Cool," Luffy crooned in the background as Shachi and Penguin played air guitar to the right. When they saw their captain looking at them, his face dubious, they clinked their tankards, and drank their ales in a few gulps. Law feared for the safety of his coin collection. He hoped they'd taken care of it over these few years, but he had his doubts.

"I think stories about elephant dung were preferable," he said, handing Kikoku to Bepo with a nod of thanks, picking up the snail phone, his beer, and wandering to the side of the ship for some privacy. Would it be worth explaining Bepo's exchange to Luffy?

"Law?"

"Hmm?"

"Don't roll in elephant dung. It really stinks! The Minks were nice people and all, but they had some strange habits. But they made great lasagna. Did I tell you? They use lizard meat. And any meat's good meat. It was delicious!"

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 **Thank you** , dear **Guest** for your review. What's in store for Law? All follows, faves, comments and reads welcome and appreciated. Thank you for reading.


	14. Chapt 14 - Red Force, Doflamingo, Vergo

**A/N** : Doflamingo and Vergo pay a visit.

 **Warnings** : Mature content, language, graphic discussion of past abuse/rape.

* * *

Chapter 14 – Red Force/ Doflamingo / Vergo

* * *

Law was happy to finally be on land. As much as he liked the sea, he also loved the land. Or he loved medicine. It was hard to run a practice on the ocean. It was stimulating to treat people suffering various states of trauma, not so much scurvy and beriberi, though he took it all in his stride. But he just wasn't the pirate he had been.

With Doflamingo dead, and Luffy working steadily toward his goals, those in the government like Smoker and Fujitora seeming to help the Strawhat captain, his need to bring it all down had simmered to a slow burn. After all, he'd contributed, and some, to the changes affecting the world, and his efforts hadn't been in vain, but he'd paid a steep price.

He wasn't the only one of course. But living a normal life was something he hadn't thought possible for him for most of his time on earth, so when the opportunity presented itself he took it.

He had medicinal stock growing at the back of the house for all his healing needs. They'd pull basil, coriander, lemongrass and rosemary from it for cooking as well. He visited the village below once a week to help the elderly, the young, those who couldn't move, and they brought their business to him for the rest of it. It wasn't that he was some kind of Princess Mansherry, no way in hell did he possess that kind of goodness, but he had some control in his life, he could direct it the way he wanted. He liked that people didn't close their doors in his face, and he remembered his parents when he treated patients.

All the hospitals that rejected him while Cora-san tried to find a cure for his disease, labelling him a monster, were still in his memory. He treated those who were spurned, shunned and rejected, even when some of them made his skin crawl. He might not have been making a difference by slicing and dicing, but he was by stitching and splicing. They lived near the ocean too, so the sea was never far away. He'd sit out on their balcony in the afternoons before the Beach Shack opened, and lean back in a Lay-z-boy, enjoying the blue skies overhead, and the smell of the sea in the air.

Doflamingo and Vergo's deaths had freed him from so much anxiety. He'd been under Shanks' protection for five years when word had come through. How, _how_ had it happened? Of course the marines couldn't keep those two down forever. If they weren't to execute them at once, they'd need good reason to keep them, and with the best lawyers money could buy, no jail was going to hold Joker and his flunky.

It wasn't at Luffy's hands, and in some ways Law was pleased. He didn't really care who'd taken him out, but he preferred _not_ feeling like he had to be rescued, that others were fighting on his behalf, even though he _had_ been rescued in his life, and he had also helped others. It wasn't like Luffy didn't have a bone to pick with Joker by then, but he wasn't the one who plucked the last feather.

Law hadn't been strong enough for Doflamingo and all his connections. But who was? It was a concerted effort that finally tumbled him and Vergo. Unless they came back from the dead. He wondered at which crossroads Doflamingo had struck his deal with the devil. He prayed that debt was being collected.

They'd even visited Shanks once. That had been pure intimidation. There was no need for them to see the pirate emperor. Law had remained nearby but out of sight for the most part, and Shanks had made sure he had enough men watching out for him too, so that no sudden strings curled around his body, pulling him back into Doflamingo's sphere. No haki-covered bamboo staff crashed down on his head, his hair sticky with blood. He couldn't block out their words, however.

Was it a free world? At the time, and maybe even now, everyone in the free world knew him not only as dangerous and sadistic, but they also knew him as a runaway slave and just what type of slave, thanks to the marines. His bounty posters were plastered with the information, and he was labelled as a corrupter of morals, seducer of innocents, without shame, lewd, wanton. Whatever inflamed the imagination of the World Government copy writer the most. The dead or alive on the bounty posters gave anyone who captured him leeway to do what they wanted. Shanks' crew was loyal to their captain, and those who knew Law respected him. Those who didn't had a healthy respect for his skills with the sword, his devil's fruit and medical expertise. Arrogant outliers could be dealt with. It was better if he didn't have to. Though the very definition of arrogant and outlier was Doflamingo, and he was a very difficult customer to deal with.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

At the time of the impromptu visit, Law and his men had been sailing with the Red Force for some time, and had integrated themselves into the crew. The Polar Tang accompanied the fleet, with occasional forays elsewhere when Bepo, Penguin and Shachi had business. There was still a surgery on board, and Shanks' crew were often in need of patching up. Shanks admired Law's strategic and calm nature, his ability to react quickly under pressure. And who would turn down a fully-equipped operating room manned by one of the best medical minds in the New World? The position of the Heart Pirates Captain within the Red Haired universe was secure. Law had been pleased that he hadn't had to fight to prove himself, and that still seemed to hold true, though mouthy upstarts challenged him on occasion.

Most mornings, in the hours after breakfast, Law discussed the news that filtered through, what it really meant – filtered the filters with Shanks, Benn Beckman and Marco, if he was travelling with them. What was left of the Whitebeard crew so often sailed with Shanks, that Marco had his own room. They'd plan, debrief, philosophise even, or just sit in silence. Sometimes the surgeon would read a book while the other men pored over maps or debated if it was too early for sake. He'd wander over and see what direction the New World was taking.

The morning of the visit from the underworld boss and the ex-marine was no different. Law, reading at the table, Shanks and Marco scanning maps, Benn smoking. The Heart Pirate suddenly glanced up, put his book down, and clutched his nodachi. All the hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention. Shanks and Marco also raised their heads, looked around and quickly rolled up the maps. Benn ground his cigarette into the ashtray. All looked towards the door then stood. _Joker_ , Law mouthed. He'd recognise that razor-sharp hiss of energy anywhere, and he knew a day would come when his luck ran out. Vergo and Doflamingo hadn't come announced, and they'd brought the fucking family with them, and were making their way through the ship. Law could feel them. Their energy was intense. Shanks indicated to Marco to move closer to Law. The situation was overwhelming, but Law tried to maintain his composure.

The emperor and his first mate shifted to the front of the room, and Marco and Law to the right of it. How long had the two Don Quixote pirates been released? They all recalled the newspaper articles detailing the commutation of their sentences, and that Law had taken to his room for a couple of days after reading them. Maybe they'd been out a month or two at the most, and they felt a right to come to Shanks' ship? The haki from all corners of the room was intense, and when Doflamingo pushed the door open, Vergo trailing after him, it only increased. Fuck. Law wasn't sure if his breath caught from seeing his worst nightmares again – it had been two years and a few months – or if he was just overloaded with the room's energy.

Doflamingo, seemingly ignoring him, sent strings flying Law's way as he strode into the room. They would have wrapped themselves around his neck and body, incapacitated his hands, dragging him into Doflamingo's orbit, if a concentration of haki, Law's, Shanks', Marco's and Benn's, hadn't sent the strings flying back to Joker, where he cut them down before they could touch him.

The ex-leader of Dressrosa stopped in the middle of the room. His expression was at first falsely bewildered, then Law saw that sneer, and following that the ever-present smile, that hideous pink coat.

"You've grown fond of my whore, I see," he said to Shanks, his words venomous. Law refused to drop his head though he wanted to. He glared at his former "master."

"What do you do, Law?" he turned to his former subordinate, "To have three such powerful men protect you? I always thought you hated being shared." His eyes all but undressed him. That was nothing new.

"Still so pretty, but tell me Shanks," and he turned back to the emperor, "Why would you be happy with my sloppy seconds? Though I must admit, no-one excels at giving pleasure quite like Law. No-one can suck cock or take dick quite so exquisitely. I trained him well, my little kitten, and I'm sure you've all reaped the benefits of that talented mouth, that hungry little hole, those pretty noises he makes when he's scared, when he's excited."

"Good morning to you too," said Shanks. He kept his eye on the two intruders, but also saw Marco nod to Law from the corner of his eye. Law made a quick room for himself and the Phoenix, and teleported them both out of the chambers to the deck. Let Doflamingo insult him out of earshot. Out of reach.

When they were on deck, Marco wondered that Law didn't make a sound, but he could feel the anger and shame emanating from him. Fear. He understood the underlying fear. Wariness. Frustration at not fighting, but he'd fought too many times and lost. Law didn't always slice up the guys that propositioned him with the benefit of a room. He might stop the bleeding if he sliced off someone's fingers, but he wouldn't reattach them. Few of the men tried anything. Only if they were very drunk or very stupid, but even after these years, Law was guarded. All it would take was some seastone, or clever use of water.

He'd been softer when Luffy was in his life, and they still remained good friends, but he found it next to impossible to allow the kind of trust that ushered in intimacy. No wonder, Marco thought, but what a waste. Still, through the loss of Ace and the connection to Luffy, Law and he had an understanding too.

"The Family's out here," the younger man growled. He could feel Trebol sliming around.

"We'll keep them away."

Law nodded. A nod of thanks.

Marco was a little puzzled. He'd fought side by side with Law, the doctor carving and severing, snarling and growling as much as anyone else. And he could fight. Offensive, defensive. He'd saved Marco's arse a few times.

"I can't handle the trash talk," Law said with a grimace to Marco's curious face, to his unasked question. Normally the surgeon hated having anyone stand in for him, though he was always prudent. "I grew up with them. They know just where to kick."

Well, if the trash talk was anything similar to Doflamingo's spiteful discharge, Marco didn't blame him.

"Hey, kid, you've been through enough." And though Law had left his twenties, Marco had ten years on him, and was even more timeless with his fruit ability.

"Old man," Law murmured.

The Phoenix lifted the dark haired pirate's hat, messed up his hair some and dragged him into the sun spilling over the deck. "Let's watch the world go by, huh? Shanks can handle those fucktards. We won't give you up, Law." He passed the hat over and the doctor promptly placed it back on his head, wearing it low so it hid his face.

Again, he was more grateful than he could express. He wasn't without support in his life, but the years without it were embedded in his synapses. Marco and Law sank to the deck and rested back to back, looking at the light across the water. Marco sought his tattooed hand, thinking of Ace's own, and Law appreciated the contact.

"As if you'd let any of us get near you, hmmm?" he said referring to Doflamingo's words, and ran a finger over the half-formed nails of the hand in his own.

Law hummed slightly in response, but it was an unsure sound born of having his sanctuary disrupted, of being unsure of how to answer.

"They'll leave empty-handed. And they'll go down, Law. Sooner or later, they'll be brought down."

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

"Oh? Someone's a little shy about receiving compliments?" Joker laughed at Law's disappearance.

Shanks indicated that he should take a seat. Though he and Benn had been sitting with Marco and Law earlier, they now sat at a table set back from the main part of the room. This room was used for banquets, receiving visitors, and as a breakfast mess for the high ranking members of the amalgamated crews. The table was on a slightly raised platform. Benn was a tall fucker, but Shanks didn't want to look up to either Doflamingo or Vergo. Well, that really couldn't be helped, but the two red-haired pirates had a slight elevation. The Don Quixote pair sat at the recently vacated breakfast table. Doflamingo picked up the book and pushed the ashtray toward Vergo. It was a medical title. If not for Doflamingo, Law wouldn't have half the knowledge he did. His teeth squeaked against one another before he reined in his anger. He threw the book back onto the table. Vergo didn't stop it from sliding to the floor.

"How did you get out of jail, Doflamingo?"

"The legal way." He kicked back in his chair. "Unlike that shit you've taken under your wing. He bites, Shanks. He's unruly if you don't discipline him."

Vergo's grin at the last comment was one of the creepiest things Shanks had seen. The ex-marine absent-mindedly tapped his bamboo staff in the palm of his hand.

"Why did you come?"

Doflamingo looked around the room and cracked his knuckles. The haki from the emperor was annoyingly strong.

"To take back what is mine."

"Being?"

"My whore."

"Being?"

Doflamingo rolled his eyes. "Don't play dumb, Shanks. Law is branded and paid for. He belongs to me, or the World Government, whoever gets him first. I've come here to take him off your hands. He can be quite the handful, and whilst I do appreciate you keeping him while I was indisposed, he needs to return to his rightful owner."

"He's here as a free man, and a grown man."

"These papers indicate that he's not worthy of freedom. And any slave has the mind and outlook of a child." Doflamingo removed ownership papers from the inside pocket of his coat, shook them at Shanks.

"In fact," Vergo cleared his throat, "It's a great honour for someone as inconsequential as Law to be of service to someone like Doffy. The brat doesn't know when he's got it good."

Shanks didn't show his anger. "He should be grateful for being imprisoned, fucked and beaten by you two?"

Doflamingo's shit-eating grin widened. "You're not going to offer us a cup of tea? Some _sake_ to celebrate our newfound freedom? Straight to business?"

Shanks shook his head. After their entry, any courtesy would be a betrayal.

Doflamingo kept his gaze for a moment. Vergo's cheek twitched. The blond sighed.

"Well, his gratitude is really of no importance, but he should fulfil his duty, his fate, yes."

"Don't you have other slaves?"

" _Fuffuffu_ , and they're a lot more amenable than my little runaway, but I don't like my possessions falling into someone else's hands. Thinking for themselves. Thinking that they can think for themselves. That's always been Law's problem. Far too smart for his own good. His actions have hurt my businesses. Retribution must be attained. Plus there's just something so alluring about Law, don't you think?"

Doflamingo leaned forward on the chair, his legs wide, one arm resting on a knee. The former shichibukai – or had he somehow retained that position?– then sat up and tapped the tips of his fingers together.

"Law needs to be taught a lesson, Shanks. He needs to be retrained. He needs to come back to where he belongs."

"On your cock?"

Doflamingo shrugged his shoulders and laughed. "Well, that's one of the benefits. Don't let him tell you otherwise. Across my lap is another. But within the Family, Shanks. We raised him."

"And you've done your best to destroy him." He thought of the shadows that rarely lifted from the young doctor.

"It guarantees loyalty, what more can I say? And don't believe all he has to say. Now, if we can get that cute little tush in here, there is something about him that's all too delectable," and the fucker actually shivered in anticipation, "I'll relieve you of your burden."

Shanks shook his head again, and Benn stood by. "Not a chance in hell, Doflamingo."

Benn and he quickly repelled a string attack almost before it happened.

"Leave and leave him alone."

"Hmmm," Doflamingo's ever present smirk covered his face. "No tea, and now you're telling me to get out. Well think, Shanks. Who will have him now? Now that Strawhat's with another and everyone knows. _Everyone_ knows. I mean, what's he charged with, corrupting the morals of marines? Shameless, shameful. Lascivious? That's about sums Law up. Smut just waiting to happen.

"Heed this, Shanks, Benn. The last time I saw him there was a queue of at least twenty marines, and the one at the front of the queue was balls deep in his arse. No lubrication, mind you, rough, just how that tart likes it. You should have heard the sounds."

And Doflamingo slapped the back of one hand into the palm of the other mimicking it. "Including the ones Law was making. He's trained for God's sake."

Benn and Shanks shot a worried glance at one another. Did they shut Doflamingo up, or learn why Law sometimes locked himself away for hours at a time? Could they trust anything the crime lord had to say? They winced at the pain he must have felt.

"The chains were wrapped around his midriff. His hands restricted. You know how they are when it comes to fruit users. He couldn't brace himself, so they had to hold his legs like the handles of a wheelbarrow as they pounded away. His beautiful face kept scraping across the concrete. You've noticed his good looks, haven't you?" He passed a sly look to the emperor and his first mate, making them complicit in his own pleasure at Law's expense.

"Serves himself right for being so pretty, right? And it was annoying. Annoying! The marines couldn't get a grip. So another one just rested his foot on Law's face, on his head, and it stopped the larger movements, though of course his face still got cut up. Can you imagine how that would feel? I couldn't stop laughing. Imagine him, that he thought he could bring me down, reduced to that. He was mortified. Teach him to cross me."

Doflamingo let out a cackle that curdled Shanks' blood.

"Or maybe dead. His eyes were so dead. Resigned," Vergo reflected, "Maybe he realised it didn't get any better than that. He'd been of great use to us before the arrest, of course." The men sniggered.

Vergo felt the surges of haki increase, and he took in Shanks' dark face. "He did slice me into a number of pieces, Shanks. He impaled me on a few metal poles, and he betrayed the Don Quixote pirates, from almost the moment he came to us. You can't say he didn't have it coming."

Doflamingo sat back, wishing he'd been free to stroke himself at the time.

"My proud little bumble-bee, Mr. Shichibukai and Worst Generation with his arse in the air like that? He made these little noises like he couldn't help it. Little puffs. Little groans. Mewling. Delicious. That's when he wasn't yelling out, begging them to stop. Vergo described the way his hands would spasm, those long tattooed fingers – so scary, right?" Doflamingo tipped his head back and roared with laughter.

"His arms were trapped. The fingers kept trying to find a grip on something, anything, but there was only air and motion, right? Law was the carnival ride of the century. And he came, a number of times, Shanks, he came. His junk was flapping about. No way of getting himself off, or of controlling it, but like a proud little stallion, it did him proud. It let us know he was alive. He loves being used like that. It's what he's good for. No wonder Strawhat left him. Could _you_ be with him? Just imagine where he's been." Doflamingo shuddered with distaste.

"The only person, _only_ , who would accept such a bucket of filth, who will treat him with some gentleness, who would forgive his monstrous indiscretions – if he behaves, but he's so rebellious, isn't he Vergo?"

Doflamingo looked over at his righthand man, and Vergo shrugged his shoulders in complete agreement.

"It truly will be the end of me - is me. I am the only one who truly understands him. Would you deny him that, Shanks. That chance of happiness? Deny the world the chance of safety from the consequences of his lewd moral compass?" Doflamingo's manic cheer dropped to a low throated snarl. He smiled.

Shanks couldn't hide his disgust at Doflamingo. He didn't want to.

"He's happy." Though the emperor didn't know if it was happiness so much as contentment, of having found some kind of equilibrium. A form of it. Shanks knew Law's scars ran deep.

"And he'd be a hell of a lot happier if you weren't on the ship, so _go_. I don't want to deal with you again, and if you persist, all business dealings are off. All. Leave him alone. Don't approach him again. If you need to discuss anything in the future, you arrange a freaking appointment instead of barging in as if you owned the place."

Doflamingo paused, tipped his head to the side. "Hmm, with all due respect, I do hear you, you who have not even provided common hospitality. I will remember, Shanks, your lack of manners. As it stands, what's more important is that you can't get that image from your head now, can you?

"What if I told you he'd placed his enchanting lips – and don't tell me your gaze hasn't lingered on them – opened wide and placed them around every single one of those marine cocks, and they came in his mouth, his hair, his face, all over that painted body, before they decided to utilise his other hole? He couldn't kneel up, hold himself upright without falling into their crotches, because of those chains. Oh he was very eager for it. Couldn't help himself from lapping away like a cat at a bowl of milk."

Shanks sighed. One couldn't help but feel stained when holding a conversation with Joker. "They decided, Doflamingo, as you said. That's assault, and it's a miracle Law even survived it."

"He initiated it."

"How? While in chains?"

"By doing the job he was raised to do, and by just by being Law. It's innate, don't you find? He should have been grateful they stopped when they did, that they'd spared him to that point. I heard he got taken apart by the fleet admiral and an admiral. What I would have given to have seen that. He's just so damned irresistible. See the way he dresses, and you think he's inked up just for show? Every breath he takes is him just begging to be pushed up against a wall, bent over a table. Different courses for different horses."

Shanks shook his head. Unbelievable. "You're a sick fuck, Doflamingo. Leave my ship. Benn will see you out."

Doflamingo rose, Vergo after him.

"As you wish, Shanks. But be sure to pass onto the doctor that he will never be safe as long as I live. Never. And any enjoyment you get from him is all due to my tutelage. His ears are particularly sensitive."

Vergo nodded in agreement.

Shanks nodded, and brushed the men off. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be sure to pass on your regards, you feathered freak."

The two men smiled genially and left the room, and Shanks wondered why they couldn't just fuck one another, rather than prey on Law.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Holy shit, Law had fallen asleep with his back still against him. He didn't expect that with the amount of stress he was under, and possible danger he was in. He thought back to Ace who'd fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Law wasn't like that. Always watchful. Maybe those words echoed around his skull and it was a psychological defence. His hand was still on his, Kikoku cradled to his side. Marco couldn't see his face, but a non-glaring Law was a very sweet Law.

Boots clomped across the deck and he looked up to Benn Beckham. "Ah, you two lovebirds now?" He looked down at the tattooed fingers woven between Marco's own. Marco looked up, languidly, shrugged.

"The fuck?" said Benn, leaning closer, "Trafalgar's asleep?"

"Dead to the world."

They'd learnt from experience to not jolt him awake unless they wanted a nodachi to the throat. That guy was one jumpy motherfucker. Benn sighed and sat down on the other side of the two men, where the hands weren't joined, the seconds hand on the clock. "They've gone."

"Good," Marco said.

"You're lucky you left when you did. It was truly disturbing, what they had to say about our doc. Not from anything he's done, but what they've put him through."

"He loses confidence around them."

"No fucking wonder," said Benn, not at all surprised by the dark expressions that swept Law's face as he slept.

* * *

 **A/N** Thanks to anyone who has faved, followed or commented. Thank you for reading. The story is a lot of the same except in different settings. I hope there's some kind of progress. I usually put up two chapters to a bit of lightness can balance out the dark. The next one is dark/light.


	15. Ch 15 - Discussion: Shanks, Benn, Marco

**A/N** : The flensing of the tattoos are ideas taken from Doctor_Cyance's _Worth_. Pirates being all OOC and supportive.

 **Warnings**. Explicit. Discussion/ flashbacks of past assaults. Language. Mature Content.

* * *

 **Chapter 15 / Discussion: Shanks, Benn, Marco**

* * *

There was booze on the table. Law knew he was going to need it. Shanks wanted to talk to him, and he understood that. Benn and Marco accompanied him. Was this the day that everything changed? Law wondered. He envisioned teleporting himself to one of the smaller boats below and seeing if he could get away if things turned ugly. But booze seemed to imply things were friendly at least. Then again, alcohol could make things unpredictable.

"Law, you sure have some strange friends," Shanks indicated that they all sit at the table. He sat at the head. The cook brought in some snacks, and Shanks dismissed him after he set them down.

"You're my friends," Law said, signalling the three of them.

"As I said." Shanks roared with laughter, before growing serious. "Law, you can talk to me alone, or with these two jokers present. It's up to you."

"I've done something wrong?"

"Nothing. But I want to discuss the contents of Doflamingo's conversation today, and it's not pretty."

The doctor sighed. "Never is with that bastard." He looked at Marco. Would he stay? Marco lifted an eyebrow.

"I'm here if you want me to be."

Law sat down, drew a chair close to him, and gestured for Marco to take it. He did, a protective hand automatically placed on the dark-haired man's arm.

"He's not, Ace, Marco," Shanks said, and Law dropped his eyes. Marco didn't remove his hand. Benn sat opposite them.

Law was nervous. Were they going to give him back, kick him out, ask for services? Were the contributions he'd made over the last few years as a doctor and fighter going to count for anything?

Shanks leant across the table and took his chin in his hand, and turned it this way and that. The golden earrings framed his feral good looks, stood out against his black hair.

Law's inhalation, the narrowing of his eyes, the thick swallow was one of fear and doubt. He pulled back slightly. You had to be very careful touching him. He was a child of many wars.

Shanks brushed a finger across a scar on his cheek. It was like a permanent graze or burn.

"The marines did that, huh? When they had your face pushed to the ground?"

The words ricocheted around Law's mind. He pulled his face from Shank's clasp. He couldn't look up, his eyes miserable. His arm left Marco's touch, and he set his hands on the edge of the table, pushing down as if to raise himself up and off and out of there, but he couldn't get any strength into his arms. What did they think? Shanks and these strongest of men? And if Doflamingo told him this one thing, he would have told it all, and in graphic detail.

"Hey, calm down," Shanks touched one of the shaking hands, and boy was it shaking. "How horrible, how horrible it must have been."

Law looked across to see if he was being caustic in the way that Doflamingo used his empathy, always as a barb to scrape, to hook, to pare his skin. Shanks noticed the tears on the lashes, the clouded face, the clenched teeth. He'd seen the surgeon angry before, but not cut up.

Law tried to speak but could only let out a staggered sob, a yell almost, and sat, collapsed back down. Marco, not an intruder, but Marco, adjusted his own chair and quickly leant across to Law's and wrapped his arms around the Heart captain's chest from the back, and as much as Law hated being touched, he needed to feel that the blond thought he was human, that he had the right to be treated humanely.

The doctor tipped his head back, another low growl emitted, and Marco almost wanted to crawl into the seat with him to just hold him, and tell him it was okay.

"You weren't even in the room, Marco," Benn said.

"I can recognize pain when I see it, arsehole."

Law touched the other man's hands at Benn's words to let him know he appreciated his embrace. The Phoenix felt the younger pirate's tremors rippling his body.

"I didn't ask for it," Law stuttered. Whoever did? Whoever would? But he knew Doflamingo would have painted a very different story.

"Of course not, Law. Marines are bastards."

"Doflamingo had me chipped. I was weak anyway." He glanced up at Shanks, his vision still blurred, before dropping his eyes again. He felt Marco breathe on his shoulder, and it was so comforting, like it used to be with Luffy.

"When they arrested me, I was at a Family meeting," he mumbled. "They didn't know Doffy usually kept me chained, but somehow I think it wouldn't have mattered. I was the _Surgeon of Death_. Once they could, they wrapped those motherfucking sea prism chains around me four times. I had no movement in my arms, and on that night they had to haul me to my feet. Kizaru had burnt off my fingernails earlier. Did they leave in that detail?"

Shanks and Benn shook their heads.

Law looked down at his hand where the nails had never properly grown back. His face coloured with distaste. Why was he speaking now? Why was he telling them this? Maybe if they still had respect for him after this, he could let things go. Maybe.

"Originally, they put me in a cell with Doflamingo and Vergo, and though we were all shackled, they could manoeuvre themselves so I was sandwiched between them. Constantly."

Law felt like throwing up. Men talked about fights. They talked about those they took and assaulted. The didn't discuss attacks of this nature on their own person. But Benn's intellect was astronomical, Marco had seen it all, and Shanks had a giving nature. Maybe they'd not think less of him.

The four of them sat in one of Shanks' rooms, around a table that should have been strewn with maps and plans of the next adventure and conquest. A bottle of rum and four glasses took their place. Light spilled through the cross-hatched windows. Law stared for a moment at the calm sea that could be seen through them.

Benn hadn't seen him look this pale before. He was tall, just under two metres, though still a shorty by Beckman's standards. But Doflamingo was three metres tall, and Vergo was only slightly shorter. Even with his devil fruit, they were formidable opponents.

"I'd begged Smoker to put me in a separate cell, and he had but Doflamingo just paid some marines to drag me out of it so he could have his own private show, and the rest of them joined in for their own screwed-up reasons. I was chained, or wrapped in chains, the whole time."

"We know, Law. You don't have to tell us. I'm angry as fuck that they thought it was okay to do that to you." Shanks wondered if it had been wise to stir up this hornets' nest.

There was so much Law couldn't articulate, that he didn't always remember, at least not clearly. His hands were on his lap, his nails digging into the skin of his palms. Marco still held him. After the last marine had finished with him, what had happened? He would have pulled out, and Law would have been filled with them, semen running down his freaking legs, bloodied. His mind, frantic, wild, scrambled, broken.

They dropped him. He remembered that. His lower half just crashing to the concrete. He had no way of supporting himself, of lessening the impact. Then they hauled his shaking body to its feet. His face tear-streaked, he knew, horrified. He couldn't handle this, could never handle being shared, and Doflamingo knew it, but who could?

Had they also hauled up his stained and ruined prison trousers? Slapped his arse, ripped, and bleeding, as they dragged him into the cell? They wouldn't stop at any abasement, so he thought it was likely. Even if he hadn't been chained, there was no way he could fight after that.

Doflamingo was restrained, like Law, with his arms pinned to his body. He lay on the floor and instructed them to put the younger man's shaking body directly on him, their faces together in a gruesome parody of intimacy, and he instructed them to hold his head steady, his body still, and then that travesty of a tongue of his shot out and licked the dark-haired man's face clean of the fucking cum sprayed all over it from the marines when he'd been forced to suck them off.

Law tried to move his head away, but he couldn't – out of exhaustion and out of the marine holding it. He still shuddered at the memory of Doflamingo's breath intermingling with his own. The Don Quixote pirate instructed the marine to move his underling's head left, right, up, down, so he could have better access, and once he'd literally finished grooming him, he spoke, breathed into Law's mouth.

"Open up slave, and do a good job." He was so close that it was impossible to miss the anguish and fatigue in his favourite's eyes.

"You've been whoring around," and Law could feel Doflamingo hard below him. His despair knew no bounds. The Dressrosa warlord's appetite had no limits. "Yet, I cleaned and forgave you, and as thanks, I expect you to excel at what you do best."

The large man bit Law's lip, and shoved his tongue deep inside his mouth, and Law knew he had to meet it with his own, and entwine the two as if having this freak of a pirate invading his orifice was the thing he sought the most after just having been raped by every marine who wanted a piece of him.

He sobbed into Doflamingo's mouth, even while he lapped at the other's tongue, and seemed to exalt in the mouth fucking the pink feathered freak was giving him. The grin smearing the face of the feathered freak was wide at Law's sounds of distress. If his arms had been free, he would have cuddled him to his chest, before fucking the living shit out of him once more.

"Okay, lift him up," Doflamingo instructed the marine, after withdrawing from Law's mouth, the Heart pirate trying to breathe normally. "I need a little relief, after that goddamned sexy show, and this disobedient shit knows what to do, but you're going to have to guide him there. You'll have to help me too. Free me up. There's a lot of beri, and this slave's shame, in it for you."

The blond had seen how hard the marines had got at Law's humiliation. Hell, they were the ones humiliating him.

A marine pulled down the tall man's prison trousers and his dick sprung free. It was primed and ready to go. How _couldn't_ it be with what he'd just heard, the bits he could see? With the chains, it was almost impossible for Law to straddle the body below him, or to be on his own knees, so Doflamingo instructed the marine to lay Law between his legs, his face near his behemoth.

He then got the marines to use the chains wrapped around Law's body as leverage to raise him, and got one to grab a fistful of Law's hair, and instructed for Law to open wide as the marine drove the black-haired man onto Doflamingo's erect cock. Training meant that Law had his lips wide, and no teeth.

Rather than leaving him there to try to stop the choking, and use his tongue best he could to get the fucker off, so that he could then get off him in turn, the marine used his grip on Law's hair and chains to push his head, his mouth up and down, up and down on Doflamingo. He gagged. His eyes filled with terror. What the fuck was going on? He heard them all laughing again, the marines holding him the loudest. He had no control. There was no rhythm.

"Those big bad tatts just for show, right, Doc?"

"This will invigorate him. Mark my words. _Fuffuffufu_. He'll be up for round two, boys, don't worry."

Law's eyes fluttered opened and closed, and he sought death. He wanted to die. But he blacked out instead, before Doflamingo came, but seeing his pretty pirate all limp and bedraggled, lying so near his cock, once he was dragged off it, along with the previous excitement, was enough for the shichibukai to blow his load. All over his subordinate of course.

Law remembered vaguely waking to Vergo having him pinned to the wall, and going for broke. Vergo could stand, if someone pulled him up. Law had to be pinned, because his legs wouldn't support him. Doflamingo could stand too, but he was so tall, and his chains were more secure, it took a lot of manpower to raise him.

He was sure they'd both had him, one way or another, him basically unconscious. And his brief few moments of lucidity were taken up with him somehow servicing the one or the other of the two, the marines helping and helping themselves. Hands ghosting over him.

In the morning, Smoker found him sandwiched, captured between them. A shivering wreck.

Law's eyes slid to catch Shanks' own. He continued, his voice fragmented. It was all bad, and he didn't know what was the worst of it, so he spoke of what he could remember, of what he could bear to say. Not much. Not the whole. Not his most recent remembrances. The goddamned unrelenting taste of them all, the ache and sting of the split flesh at the corners of his mouth, were at the forefront of his somatic recall. _Don't let the olfactory senses kick in,_ he silently begged his subconscious _._ He wiped his fist across his mouth, the tattooed letters dancing in Shanks' vision. Still, Law wanted to counter whatever the pink freak had told them. He had never been willing.

"Doflamingo and Vergo goaded me and encouraged the marines through the whole thing. That part was nothing new, but their fucking voices. It's so hard for me to hear them and not go into melt down. Not good for a pirate," said Law, his unsteady hand going for a shot of rum and then downing another the minute Shanks poured it.

"You hold up against others, Law. One day they won't have a hold over you."

"One can only hope."

He'd had the balls to face them when he'd taken on Punk Hazard and Dressrosa, but that two year captivity and his most recent and briefest incarceration. It had done a number on him. Even now, two and a half years later. He knew how it went. You learnt how to live with trauma and how to manage it. There was no getting over it, though some days he thought he was beyond it.

Marco breathed into Law's neck. He planted a small kiss, and Law was surprised, but put his hand behind him to caress his blond hair. This wasn't to do with today, was it?

* * *

 **xXXx**

* * *

"You were a slave." Shanks. Law's hand dropped.

"My wanted posters state it clearly." He and Red-hair had already had this conversation when he'd first boarded the Red Force.

"Doflamingo talks about your brand."

Law's mouth twisted.

"I've taken baths with you, sparred with you, checked out your sexy black ink, where is it?"

Law slipped a hand over his hip and felt the pocked and scarred skin. "I flensed it. Both of them. The first when I was 16 and the next just before Luffy dropped me off with you."

"You cut your own skin off?"

"I used my fruit, but it hurt like hell. Especially the first time. I was less experienced. I wanted to eliminate any sign of that creep from my body, or adapt any design so it was mine." He flexed his hands. "Fortunately he branded me on opposite sides each time." Law wasn't sure his skin could withstand the same operation in the same spot. "Some luck, huh?"

Shanks whistled, "Hardcore."

"I was too much of a target with the brand. Pirate crews and bounty hunters, marines, world nobles, shichibukai – all think it's an invitation."

"You are enticing, Law," Benn said from across the table, a small smile. Law knew how established the first mate was with Shanks. It wasn't a come-on.

"Keep your hands to yourself," Law warned, but with a small amount of humour. He couldn't muster much into his face, his tone, considering how heavy their discussion was. Benn winked at him.

"You might want to tell the Phoenix that."

Law did twist in his seat. He wanted to see what kind of expression Marco had, and within it he could only find trust. They adjusted their chairs so they were side by side again, but Law then took Marco's hand and squeezed it. He continued to hold it.

"Law," Shanks had finished his shot and was going for another, filled the Heart captain's glass again, Benn and Marco's. "I have no desire to re-traumatise you more than I have, but I think Doflamingo has given me yet another reason to hate Akainu and Kizaru."

That too? thought Law. He nodded behind his glass, his hand strengthening in Marco's just for an instant.

Another heavy exhalation.

"Seems you and Joker had quite the conversation." Law ran his fingers on the scar on his cheek. "After this abomination of a night, Smoker found me the next morning sandwiched, again, between Vergo and Doflamingo. At least I was warm."

His laugh was bitter, and he clearly remembered a different kind of coldness that negated any physical advantage gained from the proximity. "I owe a lot to Smoker and Kureha. Tashigi and Tsuru too.

"Long story short, Smoker and crew managed to spirit me out of the marine base just before Akainu and Kizaru were due to take complete control of my case. You know part of that. The admirals had both already informed me that they intended to free Doflamingo and Vergo and to have them fuck me on the world stage before my execution."

Again, pirates were no strangers to the world of sharing their beds and bodies with the next available soul, but there was a world of difference between fucking and being forced to fuck. Law was red with discomfort, with the implications, fear at the possible interpretations of his words, but he continued, his voice tight.

"That would be their penance, and my death, shame and legacy. They'd broadcast it. Somehow I'd be a warning to others."

Benn, peeling an apple with a knife, paused for a second and looked over at the younger man, Marco still close to him.

"What did you ever do to them, Law? Seems a bit extreme even for admirals."

The other three men scoffed at the remark. Benn shrugged, and resumed peeling.

"Well, I had and have a lot less official power and fewer connections than either Doffy or Vergo, I had the slave brand, and Akainu hates me for rescuing Luffy." He directed the comment Benn's way, and turned to look at Shanks.

It was Marco's turn to hold Law's hand slightly tighter. Law squeezed back in apology. He'd been too late for Ace.

"Kizaru's just a bored fuck who tortures for fun." And fucks for fun, Law thought.

"Sounds about right." Shanks roughed up the back of his own hair.

"Probably they said it just to mindfuck me. When they got me, I'd had nothing but abuse in all forms for the last two years, then those goddamned marines, plus Vergo and Joker again. I was cracked and broken. It didn't take much to shatter a few pieces into a thousand."

"That kind of idea would scare anyone, yoi," Marco said. "Totally not fair."

Law's smile wasn't happy. Life hadn't ever given him a very fair hand.

"They took me away the day of the rendition. That is, the rendition was that night. I didn't know until Akainu's men returned me. Kureha insisted, she _insisted_ they return me to the infirmary. That's where Smoker had taken me after finding me back in Doflamingo's cell. Thank Christ for that. Thank Christ they returned me."

He ran his free hand over his face, and picked up his drink again. His window for escape would have drastically narrowed if the fleet admiral had the opportunity to personally oversee every step of his interrogation and captivity. He'd be dead or living a life worse than death.

"They shared me," Law shrugged. He struggled. His glass shook in his hand. His eyes pained. Would these men ever have found themselves in a similar situation? Were they reflecting on how weak Law was? Was he just asking for more by telling them? He loosened his hand from the Phoenix's, after shooting him another quick look, before returning his attention to Shanks.

"Akainu and Kizaru. They weren't tender. Kizaru worked my back over as well. You've seen the scars. Read the newspaper articles. It was only through willpower I was able to walk that night so the rendition could go ahead. Thank god I could. And that's about it. Apart from some pests here and there," Roronoa, now with Luffy, "nobody's fucked me or vice versa, unless I and they want it to happen."

Law stared ahead, defiant. But all he really wanted to do was to drop his head and cup his face in his hands, close his eyes tight and wish the world away.

Shanks' game face was similar to Luffy's, Benn noted. When the easygoing captains grew serious, it was only the stupid who ignored them.

"And that's the way it will continue to be, Law. I might have to deal with Doflamingo and Vergo for business, but they're not getting close to you. No way in hell. We're looking for a way to bring him down, and others are too." Shanks looked over at Benn, and Beckman nodded. It was a given.

He knew thanks for sharing his story and further expressions of disgust at what others had put Law through would embarrass the reserved man. He was outraged for the younger pirate though, and he knew Benn and Marco shared the sentiment.

There was disquiet at discussing the topic. How could there _not_ be? How could it easily be talked about? Impossible, but he admired Law for laying what he could bare. He knew it wasn't easy.

As long as Law was under his watch, as long as he remained a colleague and friend, he'd do what he could to hold off Doflamingo's insinuations and infatuations. The past was one of those slow acting poisons that felled even the strongest.

"Thank you," Law said, his eyes dark, and the words were hardly big enough to convey what he wanted to say. "The safety I feel here . . . ". He shook his head, and returned his gaze to his hands curled on his lap. He wouldn't be alive without it.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Shanks had something to do with it but Marco was going to offer anyway. The emperor had witnessed Law pull out another man's heart with his _Mes_ technique. Even though it was neat and clean, and it didn't actually kill, it wasn't nice to see. It chilled him.

At the same time, he'd seen him enfolded in Luffy's arms. Robin and that reindeer snuggled up to him, and he still felt guilt for not removing Law from his living hell when he was a boy. He probably couldn't have, but to not have even thought of his plight further. Doflamingo could kill Law through suffocation alone.

"Check he doesn't get nightmares tonight."

"He will," Marco said, leaning back, cleaning his teeth with a toothpick. That was why they didn't rouse Law in a hurry when he was sleeping. He had some trouble distinguishing reality from his dream world for a while when woken suddenly.

"Be a friend."

Marco smirked. He'd been planning on it.

* * *

 **A/N** : Thanks for reading. All comments and favourites appreciated. I know Law doesn't get to do anything much (fun). Sorry Law. We'll just have to assume that all the ferocious fighting and stuff happens "off camera".


	16. Chapt 16 - Law, Marco: More than Comfort

**A/N** : Now, this is where I get myself into trouble, because my knowledge of Marco and Shanks isn't great, but anyway! I really like the way Kereea on A03 depicts Marco in _ASL in Red_ , and I've seen some fan art of Law and Marco that I really liked, but I know it's not a popular pairing. Law is apparently taller than Marco (and Smoker), but it's difficult to verify. I originally wrote him shorter, so I think there are situations where that perspective might be confused, because I switched to taller.

The story about Penguin's past and how he helps Law is similar, if not the same, to that in Doctor Cyance's, _Worth_. Sexuality is another matter. Who else have I borrowed from? The Doflamingo diatribe is similar to that in the Doujinshi, _Rapunzel_.

 **No major warnings**. Mention of past childhood abuse, but not graphic or detailed. Some violence.

The beginning of chapter 14 is set in Law's future, and the rest of 14, also chapters 15 and 16 are set in the past from that, leading up to that future. Thanks for reading!

* * *

 **Note: Dec 8, 2018** : The Vivre Cards have come out with Marco's height, and he's got 12cm on Law. When I started writing these two, a post on Oro Jackson had Marco at about 184 cm, which I prefer. I initially wrote Marco taller, and readjusted everything. Now, it seems I need to go the other way! BUT, I'll just leave author notes instead. It's always an AU anyway.

* * *

 **Chapter 16: Law/Marco: More than Friendship**

* * *

Law had a small garden on Shanks' ship. He planted herbs for his medicines and for the cook of this particular boat. He'd always enjoyed the shade Nami's Mikan trees provided on the Thousand Sunny, and after too many months of grey walls, resting his eyes on the flowers Robin grew was a treat. With a little bit of attention, plants of sustenance could survive. As Law crouched, picking herbs he needed to crush for some tablets, Marco came up behind him, and ran a hand down his back.

Law leaned into the touch like a cat, only because he knew the owner of the hand, and turned around to almost pull the man to him, but sat on the deck instead and indicated Marco should do the same. They'd initially been wary of one another, but they shared a similar reticence and dry humour that both appreciated. Luffy and Ace had been exhausting at times. But they shared those memories too. It buoyed them through tough times. This overt contact was far more pronounced today though, and Law had to establish one thing.

"Marco."

The blond raised an eyebrow, looking at the tanned and sea-worn man opposite him. There were some flecks of grey in his hair. He was still beyond handsome. The double golden hoops in either ear, his tattoos, showing a personal appreciation of the aesthetic, or at the least, of the asymmetric.

"Don't get me wrong, please. I like you touching me. It warms me." Safe, loved, Law thought, but it was too early, to say. "But is it because of today, because of Doflamingo's words?"

Marco wasn't sure how to answer. It was, but not in the way he thought Law meant. "In what way?"

He looked across the water for a second. Was there ever a sunset on the open seas that wasn't beautiful, with no buildings or obstacles to block it? Violet and orange spread out across the evening sky, the glow tinting their faces.

Law looked down. "Are you touching me more now because Doflamingo said that's what I need, crave? That I give out such signals to other men? That you can, because I'm a whore?" He said the last part so quietly. He lay the herbs to dry. Kept an eye out for birds. There were a lot of them at this time of day. Was Marco touching him knowing that Law let him, or was he taking access for granted due to his past?

"What? No! And if you're a whore, you're a whore who never fucks. You're as chaste as the Virgin Mary!" And the pained look Law shot him told him it was because he'd been fucked too much, and didn't know who or how to trust.

Marco put out his hand, and was relieved when Law took it. "Yes, I wanted to hold you more after Doflamingo's words, but only because they were so screwed up." He stood up now, crossed over and sat next to Law. He put his arms around him, and Law didn't draw away, and Marco actually felt him melt into him.

"I want someone who cares for you to touch you with respect, Law. I want you to know how special you are. Pirates have to look over their shoulders at all times, but I want you to do that as a pirate, not a prisoner, and you know, for all the reasons and shit we do. Not because that creep somehow thinks he owns you."

Marco looked at Law's face as the doctor rested his head on the older man's shoulder. That was a bit of a surprise, but not unwelcome. Though Law kept his hands wrapped around his own body, there was a small smile, serene that let Marco know all he needed to know. Law leaned across, the feathers of his sweater matching the softness of his hair, and the light kiss he placed on his cheek was something not contaminated by today's events or the history that had gone before it.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

He never expected the surly doctor to be so welcoming, even somewhat relieved, that it was him softly knocking on his door. He'd thought of sneaking in, or they'd have to design a system where Law knew it was him if it went beyond this, if it evolved into anything. It was not beyond the imagination, or even Law's experience, that unwanted advances advanced through closed doors, open doors, wherever he happened to be. It could be the World Government too, anyone. As romantic as secret trysts were, being aware just who was in his proximal zone was of utmost importance.

Oh, Marco shivered at the pure delight and almost innocence Law displayed, his waiting and wanting clearly written on his fine featured face – all minor chords and dissonance, potential coiled in the pauses, the fear of rejection washed away with the actuality of arrival. His kisses were sweet, not tentative, but sweet. He was sure Law could be wicked, but he knew today and initially he needed something not too brash or brusque, but nor delicate and frail. Two people seeking out one another on equal terms.

Marco felt Law tremble slightly, and he wondered if everything was always an experiment for him – the man denied the chance to set his own boundaries for so much of his life. Taught that his boundaries should be ignored. Taught to initiate to lessen pain, to please the other. It was electrifying to feel his body close to his, the impossible buzzing intimacy of another's skin near his, to feel Law's breath near. To have permission to enter, to step, into his personal space.

Law met him at the door, and he couldn't help it; this older, calm, laidback man who always had his back, even in early morning grumpiness as they sat across from each other, snarling at the world through their coffees, knowing he was there was something Law looked forward to. Luffy had equated his hair with a pineapple, but he was terrible with names. The First Division Commander was an important link to Ace for Luffy, and vice versa.

Marco was a little surprised that Law was on him so quickly. Did he feel he had to give thanks? But even so, his hands reached up, drew Law into a deeper kiss and then his lips traced the line of his neck. Law laughed. Had the phoenix seen him so happy before?

Law pulled them to his bed, and sat on the edge. The doctor had his own quarters, as did Marco. He pulled his knees up and buried his face into them, but Marco could tell he was happy, not sad. Law thought he had to calm himself. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was so lonely sometimes, and here, he wanted to be with this man and it seemed he wanted to be with him. Was it possible? Was it a possibility? He and Luffy had worked for a long time. Maybe it could work again.

Law knew everything he could do to give him a good time, but he fought the urge, the training. He just wanted to touch, maybe, for a while, to feel his own strength next to this man's. Was it too soon after Luffy? It hadn't been too soon for Luffy to find someone new, that was for sure.

"What's got into you, Doc?"

Law looked at him across his knees, eyes confused, but still hopeful. Yet, now he was keeping his hands to himself.

"I don't know what to do," he said quietly, because he knew everything to do.

"You're scared of going through the motions?"

Law gave it some thought. Nodded slowly. He scooted over the bed so he was near the other man. He sat cross-legged to the side of him while Marco's legs stretched out to the floor. He closely watched his eyes, ready to pull his hand away at a sign of annoyance, a hint of rejection. He placed it on the older man's cheek. "I know how to please you, Marco, any man, in an instant, but I want to give you something from friendship, the heart. Something from me. Not from training."

"Is this training now?" Wondering at the coquettish face, the soft touch.

Law dropped his head and hand, uncertain. His stomach tightened at the words, but he regained control quickly. He looked up. "They have to be intermingled. Some gestures, some ways of being, have to overlap. But my touch comes from wanting you. Not from having to please you. Though, I'm not averse to that of course."

Marco almost grabbed his wrists and told him to stop over-thinking, but he felt this was important for Law. He didn't speak so often. The mythical zoan did take his wrist though, and kissed the inside line, the hatching across his skin. He could feel, just a little further down the arm, the indentation in Law's skin that never went away, of being forced to wear shackles for so long under Don Quixote. Fuckers.

"I would have come anyway, Law, but Shanks sent me to help you with your nightmares tonight."

Law nodded slowly, his nightmares were a reality, even if they weren't real. Marco reached out to the younger man, and wrapped his arms around him, "So let's just lie together for now, and let's deal with other stuff as it happens."

Marco's sandals took some time to pull off, but Law was already barefoot. Once he'd got rid of his footwear, he put his hands around Law again, and pulled him down, so they were facing one another on the narrow bed, Law's breath ghosting his clavicle. He pushed back a little to see the scarred man in front of him, and at the look turned his way, grey eyes quizzical and searching. He ran his fingers through Law's blue-black hair.

"I'm here, yoi, because I like you and I care about you. Maybe it's time that you and I let go of others."

He felt Law murmur against him.

"And considered we could be good for each other."

He figured the movement he felt from Law's mouth was maybe a smile, he felt a definite loss of tension from the well-toned man in his arms, his shoulders relaxing. Those tattoos he knew buried under his sweater, he'd never get tired of them. Law's hand sneaked up over Marco's chest and he took the invitation to weave his fingers with Law's own. A letter on each finger spelling out D-E-A-T-H. Indeed, they'd both seen far too much of it in their own short times on earth.

Law released their hands and rested his palm across Marco's chest for a while, feeling the rise and fall of his breath.

"I haven't been with too many blonds."

Marco jolted slightly, wondering if he was comparing him to Doflamingo. Only on the surface. Only subconsciously, or maybe it was consciously. Law slipped his hand under Marco's jacket, away from his exposed chest. The Phoenix didn't push him away.

"I'm here to change your perception of blonds." He moved to his back, Law moving with him, and enjoyed the traces he made over his skin.

"You already have."

He folded his arms behind his head. Smiled. "From what I've seen you haven't been with anyone, much. Let alone blonds."

Law nosed into him. Could he get him to take his jacket off? He wore it open anyway, so Law had good access. The Heart Captain was the one usually covered up, comparatively speaking. He didn't mind the eye-candy around him, but his own weatherboard abs and toned body were usually a surprise for those who didn't spar with him. He couldn't really operate on anyone or consult with patients half-dressed after all. That's if he ever got the chance to open a regular practice. The pirates he saw from the Red Force and the Whitebeards didn't really care, but it wasn't exactly hygienic to run around half-dressed in the infirmary.

"You've only known second-coming PTSD me. But it's true, serious partners I can count on one hand, and they were both brunet." He sat up, the tattooed hand ticking them off. A sultry smile on his lips. Beautiful. Full.

"Two?! Luffy's still a major part of your life. Who else do I have to look out for?"

Marco didn't know what he'd passed, but another kind of test. Law leant down and nipped at his lip, that crazy, jagged, soft black hair teasing at his forehead. Marco stretched his arms and rested his hands on Law's hips. He started to push up the sweater. "Will you?"

Law nodded, and removed it. _Oof._ He'd loved Ace's tattoos as well, but they were a sign of allegiance to Whitebeard. Marco had the same. Law's ink was a piece of art. On that man at least. Black in colour, they swirled around his body, encircled his chest, the intricate heart pattern and face in the middle homage to his beloved Cora-san. The crazy smile on the face at the centre like an edgy cutthroat fuck-you to all the "we're gonna fuck you up," Jolly Rogers out there. A giddy, loose, deranged cannon of happiness. All of Law's crew carried the same unhinged smile on their submarine jumpsuits.

Doflamingo had something similar of course, a large smiley face like his jolly roger was inked onto Law's back and at the centre of the heart on his front, but with a cancel mark struck through, and two rows of teeth. Marco thought it was indication of Law's positive underlying energy that the smile was not cancelled, no matter how dark the man could be. Of his deep loyalty to those he loved and had loved.

Law straddled him and bent down, almost double upon him, like a frog, as if he couldn't get close enough, but wasn't going to let himself get any closer. Marco wondered why he just didn't flatten out, and then thought he ultimately would. He'd take what he could get at the moment – he ran his palms up the man's back, like he had on the deck previously, feeling the bumps, the ridges, fucking Kizaru, the muscles. And those spasms. Was he just happy to see him? No. Something more.

Law's grey eyes sought out action and reaction in Marco's own gaze, and were tinged again with that slight wonder. Law's trademark sneer sat at the edge of those eyes, the boy who'd been beaten by marines at an age when he shouldn't have been beaten by anyone. First in Flevance. Then Vergo of all people. His whole town destroyed by the World Government, his mother and father killed, his sister, after he thought he'd have time to save her, burnt to death in the hospital, in the freaking closet he'd hidden her in for safety. And more, it just piled up. That Law. That Law had a serious tremor going on, and he was one tough motherfucker.

"What's the matter, twinkle toes?"

Law frowned, and Marco told him to lie down properly. On top of him, mind you. But what did he think he was, a child of eight? Ooh, he saw from the slight flicker in his eyes it was easy to wound him, at the moment. But he knew it wasn't always, and Law would usually smile at a gentle rebuke like that, give back as good as he got, but he hadn't been with anyone for a long time, and was vulnerable. And who'd he been with really, his two men?

He gave an exaggerated sigh in response to Marco's request, and took his sweet, languorous time to stretch out on him. His limbs extending over the blond's by a few centimetres. Oh, the Phoenix wanted a piece of that at some stage, or vice versa. They'd work it out.

"You didn't laugh at me." Law mumbled into his chest. He had that Cheshire quiet smile again, that Marco had seen him use with Luffy, with Chopper sometimes; Robin when they walked the deck together. Now you see it, now you don't. His chin rested on Marco's skin. His fingers stroking the blond stubble.

"Why don't you run around like this all the time?" The Whitebeard pirate cupped his hands around Law's still clothed-arse, and brought them closer together.

"No shirt?"

"Mmm." He tongued the designs closest to him. Law had some serious ink.

"I'm not a barbarian."

Marco scoffed into his skin. "Surgeon of death." Law brought himself up to the Phoenix's height and rolled them so that he was under Marco, and the blond couldn't resist but take his ear and trace curves and ask for that mouth, that sweet, hungry, perfect mouth melting underneath his own lips, Law's breath exhaling into his own.

"What would I be laughing about?"

Why use that to break the kiss? thought Law. Then again, was there ever a good time to do that? He pushed a calloused hand, a hand that held swords, plants, sick, healing and dying bodies, helped raise the main sails and brought them down, swabbed decks, played cards, against Marco's chest to maintain a breath of space. That shake again.

"You don't have Parkison's, do you?"

Law exhaled. "What an arsehole you'd feel like if I did."

Marco lifted an eyebrow. "I can't hold this position all night." He was supporting himself on his elbows, his body still against Law's. Law cast an eye his way. Guessed it could be uncomfortable.

"That I had two lovers. You didn't laugh."

"Was I meant to? I'm sure you've fucked around more than that."

Law gave one of his lopsided grimaces. As a free man, he knew Marco meant, it was true. His eyes were cloudy though, a little guarded.

"You didn't question that there might be two men in my life who'd loved me, who wanted to be with me. That there was a chance for me to be with them. That I had that opportunity. You accepted it. As if . . ."

Law's Adam's apple bobbed. Even though it seemed like a ridiculous thing, Marco knew where he was coming from. Ace was similar, just the result of a different flavour of cruelty.

Marco now rolled them so they were side by side, breathing into one another. "Hey, smokey," he said, running his hands through Law's hair, referring to Law's eyes colour, not the marine. Law was stiff in his embrace now. "I'm glad you had those men in your life, and you speak of them, so I know they treated you well, and I'm grateful to them. And I hope to show you too, just how much you deserve to be with someone who loves you for who you are. If we come to that."

Marco was peppering Law with kisses now, and his eyelids fluttered, hooded and opened.

"As if I was normal . . ." the doctor tapered off.

There was Marco kissing the insides of his wrists again. "You're anything but normal, babe, but in the best way."

Law didn't know, couldn't yet articulate, though he'd keep trying, this relief, this sense of validation he got from the Phoenix. He noted the endearment. it was nice and something he'd think about later. He'd heard enough over his time. He had to trust feelings and the older man's actions more than words. His hands cupped Marco's face, and they greeted one another with lips and teeth, tongue. Law pulled away.

"Zoro couldn't stand for me to be with his captain. He grew to accept it, but I planted a kiss on Luffy's head once. All of the Strawhats had saved me from that marine prison, but Luffy also saved me from some savage nightmares when I'd undergone an operation to remove the seastone chip Doffy had clipped me with. It was gratitude. My kiss. He was in bed with me, asleep, in the infirmary.

"Us being a thing, it was mostly new information for the other Strawhats, even though we'd been seeing each other before Doflamingo caught me, but it was so innocent, Marco. It was a little butterfly peck, I was just giving thanks. I'd been captive for two years. Away from him for that long. I knew much worse, of course I do, but it doesn't mean I have to, want to, or will act with depravity. And after the kiss Roronoa was all in my face about keeping my diseased whore hands and mouth well away from their captain.

"He's an ex-bounty hunter, and he went in for the kill – he punched me across the face so hard I almost blacked out, and he took that opportunity to mouthfuck me, tongues, nothing else, while – what? My lips were open in shock and pain? I'd had the the air expelled from me and was trying to draw some back in. All the while I was in the sickbed, only just woken up. Healing from everything else too."

Law ran a hand along the jaw where he remembered the bruising. Marco kept a hold of him.

"He dismissed any feelings Luffy might have had for me as if his captain was out of his mind, you know – simple-minded, obsessed with a new toy – and any I might have had as scheming or just something unobtainable, unimaginable, beyond the realm of imagination for someone like me. He only got like this after he saw the brand. We eventually worked it out, but I think he always thought I was play-acting. He wanted me to remember my place, and it certainly wasn't with Luffy."

Marco blew into the dark tresses of the pirate in his arms. "As long as the other guy's willing, you should be with whoever you choose."

The Phoenix was always calm. It was soothing.

"Right?" Law's tone wasn't even. It just wasn't what he'd heard throughout his life. Conditioning was a bitch.

"I'm just surprised there haven't been more, really. Who wouldn't want you by their side?"

Law and Penguin's escape from Doflamingo, and his relationship with Luffy, both had done wonders to build his self-esteem, but it was still a shaky creature. Even that fling, it was more than a fling, with Smoker. Law laughed into Marco's side. "It has its drawbacks."

He just looked at Law, his steadying hands still on him, his gaze urging him to continue. Outside, the muted calls of the crew and the ocean filtered through.

"Penguin, from my crew, was the second – or the first really. It's just you know about Luffy. We escaped together. Historically, I'm always a fucking damsel in distress" His tone self-deprecating, he grimaced at some of the memories.

"Your opponents fight dirty, Law. And I've seen you help those who help you out often enough."

Law nodded, rested his head on his arm for a while.

"Penguin stopped an attack on me by some of the younger Don Quixote crew when we were sailing once. He was a cartographer's apprentice. Doflamingo offered me to him as a reward, a prize. Penguin had rescued one of his precious objects. The crazy kid refused, or politely declined – Who refuses Doflamingo? – saying he preferred females. I hated him at first, for my position of weakness, for his kindness. I was filled with hate from Flevance onward. But Penguin, Cora-san, they went a long way to tamping it down.

"After we escaped, I learned that he did like me. That he did want to sleep with me, but _not_ without my consent. He helped open the doors to understanding and to valuing myself, to realising that Doflamingo's words were not the truth, that the destiny they'd decided for me was one I didn't have to accept. That there _was_ such a thing as consent. He was very important."

"He's a blond."

Law laughed where he was now curled against Marco, the phoenix's arms around him. Marco was glad he'd had Penguin in his life.

"A very dark blond."

In the stillness, he rubbed circles on Law's back, and the flat of Law's palm continued to trace Whitebeard's design.

"Doflamingo killed my real first."

"The brunet." Marco felt the chill in the room. Give him a pirate and he'd give you a fucked up childhood, but he didn't know if anyone could experience what Law had been through and not be batshit crazy. The doctor wasn't the sanest of people at times, but he held it together the majority of the time. How he did it, Marco didn't know.

"Mmm. He was sweet. Another slave. We were young. It was before I escaped. My status was elevated because I was Doflamingo's favourite, because of my fruit abilities and I was studying medicine. He'd clean the cabins, bring in new bedding, that kind of thing. Doflamingo was probably training him too. We were similar ages. We both liked drawing, in the small amounts of time we had. The crew – I didn't grow until I was about fourteen, and I was still mastering my fruit ability – if I ran into certain members of the crew, especially the executives, it could be hell for me. Doflamingo usually didn't mind if they humiliated me. Sexually, physically, verbally. He wanted me to be strong."

"Strange way to go about it," Marco murmured.

Law nodded.

"He wanted you to suffer."

Law hummed.

"I wasn't nice to the other kids my age, but they weren't nice to me either. They saw how I was treated by the higher-ups, and the more stupid ones thought they could do the same. I had benefits, but the price I had to pay was too high. This kid, Luke, he was different. Somehow he was polite to me, seemed interested in the things I drew, the books I read. He couldn't read. Mostly I read medical books, but there were a few stories I knew. We could snatch a few kid-like conversations here and there. But we'd also grown up too fast. It was probably just friendship. It was lovely to have someone."

Law's hand gripped the waistband of Marco's trousers. Clenching and unclenching. He doubted Law noticed.

"I leant across and gave him a kiss one day. We were outdoors. The sun was setting. It could be pretty on the ship, even amongst it all. He returned my kiss, maybe there was a small hug, and then we returned to our art. Someone saw, of course. Someone reported. They wouldn't have cared if it was Luke and another slave, it was because it was me."

Marco tensed.

"They whipped him first. Made a show of it. Had him bound, kneeling on the deck. Doflamingo used his strings to make sure I got in a few lashes. The look in Luke's eye when I did that. Pity. He should have _despised_ me. Then, as if he'd just got totally bored of the whole thing, Doffy put his gun against Luke's head and told him the bullet was for touching his property. Then it was over. I had to clean the deck."

Doflamingo's mocking cadence echoed in his head.

 _Were you lonely, Law? Did you think you could have a playmate? You're a whore, Law. Don't forget it. And the only people who touch you, and who you touch, if they allow it, are those I approve of. You don't know anything else. Remember, the weak don't get to choose. Your role is to be fucked, Law. Whoever heard of anyone loving a washed-up piece of trash? Only one person will ever do that, Law, and you know I deserve your gratitude, your subservience for being the one and only. The only one. You_ will _give it._

That tremor actually subsided as Law spoke, as he remembered. Marco's grip tightened.

"Who knows how that night ended, but it wouldn't have been pretty. I've got these gaps in memory," Law's eyes flickered over him. "Luke, he was just a kid. I mean, we both were, but if he'd decided to talk to another slave, share his pictures with someone else. If I hadn't kissed him . . ."

"Two brunets then," and Marco held him so close. Those hands running up and down his back again. "Shh. All your men have been able to fight Doflamingo since then."

"Penguin. Luffy, yourself." If he could call Marco his man? The blond seemed keen. "Penguin's not strong enough, but he knows about him, and he can fight. You two, yes. But my affection doesn't stem from that except to say there's less likely to be a situation where that bastard makes me pick up a sword against you."

"That's important."

Hell yes, Law's eyes flashed.

* * *

 **Thanks** all, for reading. Next chapter continues the conversation.


	17. Chapter 17 - Marco, Law, Agate, Kikoku

**A/N:** Law and Marco continue their conversation. The idea about the _ito ito_ power and diet comes from _someday i'll be calm_ , by protoagaz over on AO3. The coloured tattoos on the back of Law's wrists being a shading in of Doflamingo's symbol is from Doctor Cyance's _Worth_ , though I've read it elsewhere.

 **Warnings:** Mature content. Mostly conversation, but it includes some reflection, discussion of past events.

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 **Chapter 17: Law/Marco/Kikoku/Agate**

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"I'm not keeping you company on a night you're going to have nightmares if you keep that by your side." Marco pointed to the nodachi propped against the end of the bed.

"Doflamingo was on Shanks' ship today. I'm not losing it." Law glanced at Marco from where he sat on the edge of the bed, his face all recessed spaces and shadowed corners

"The few times I've had it at my throat have been enough." Marco ran the whole of his palm over his Adam's apple, remembering how close that blade had been to drawing more than a thin line of blood. Sitting up, he pushed back against the few pillows the doctor had, one hard with soba hulls. His legs stretched across the bed.

Typical that Law would lean to the ascetic, though maybe he'd got used to making do with what was at hand, considering some of his past living conditions. It would explain why he always sought that bear out to rest on. Couldn't overtly pamper himself, but would take what came his way.

"She's sharp," Law nodded.

"Like a razor, and you're jumpy when you have those dreams."

Law wanted him to stay. He wanted Kikoku within reaching distance. She was a demon sword. It was better she was close.

"Do you mind if I speak about Luffy?" Law's arms rested on his knees, his fingers joined, making a cradle, his face tipped Marco's way.

"As long as you're not comparing dick sizes."

Law's grin was flat and closed-mouthed.

"And as long as you don't mind me talking about Ace," Marco added.

"I haven't so far, right?"

"Same."

Law stood and stretched, all easy lassitude, and padded to the table to the side of the bed, nearest Marco.

The Phoenix hoped the the dark-haired man wasn't going to read him any bedtime stories from one of those academic journals scattered on the surface.

Law opened the top drawer and pulled out a small gem from a pouch, the orange and white striped agate Luffy had given him some years earlier. He returned to the bed, sat close to Marco, cross legged, his own back against the wall, and placed it in his open hand.

The blond eyed the gem, but also took in the contours of Law's body. That was another natural wonder he hoped he'd be invited to hold soon. He rolled the stone around his palm, feeling the smoothness. It was calming.

"He taught me a lot about dealing with panic attacks and bad dreams. He gave me this to ground me. If I fall asleep with it in my hand, or I tie a small pouch around my wrist, I can remember to hold it and it helps bring me back to reality."

Marco looked across at him. It hardly felt enough. "Considering I've had your freaking demon sword at my neck before, I don't know how effective this is."

Law leant toward the end of the bed and placed his hand on Kikoku. He felt the charge run through her. Feisty.

"I don't trust her if someone else comes across her."

Marco gave a thin smile. "We don't trust you with her when you come out of those nightmares, yoi." He could see from the determination in Law's eyes that he might be sleeping in his own room tonight.

"I get it. Luffy would punch, occasionally, when he came out of those dreams."

"Occasionally."

"True, not often. You know how strong he is though. But I never raised Kikoku to him unless I was in a situation where I totally didn't expect his presence."

"Once I got to know him," he conceded.

"And he could wrap himself around you three times or more."

"That too," said Law. He'd had to shambles himself away from that scenario more than once.

"Ace would just start lighting everything up," Marco laughed. "I'm fire, so it didn't affect me. But our mattresses weren't so lucky."

There was no jealousy in the warm smile Law sent Marco. He released his hold on his sword, scooted up the bed and rested a hand on the blond man's arm, leg's lazily swung across the Whitebeard pirate's body.

"And when you have nightmares?"

He blinked at Law, uncomprehendingly. "I don't. Maybe it's my phoenix ability. It heals. But I don't."

Law slanted towards him and lazily patted the side of his face. He dropped his hand and pushed back against the wall.

"I've had fewer since Luffy, that's true."

Marco again raised an eye. He'd witnessed Law in the midst of his sleep demons more than once.

"I never used to sleep. And then, just after being freed from the marines, the Strawhats had to use seastone on me."

Both men shuddered at knowledge of how that stone made them feel. The horrible loss of energy, the low grade pain constantly thrumming through their bodies. Quite the opposite of the healing calm the agate generated.

"One time only." Law's elbow rested on his arm, held flat across his body. He pulled at the cartilage of his ear, captured his earrings and pushed the earlobe up to meet it. He kept the pressure on his ear as he spoke to Marco.

"I kept trying to create _rooms_ any time they approached me, after I flensed the brand. The sedatives Chopper had me on knocked me out and into a three-day journey through hell. Nightmares. Maybe it was the painkillers. The wound was infected. They chained me to the bed too. Legs and arms." Law smiled thinly. "They wouldn't hurt me, that crew. I must have been uncontrollable. Feverish."

"Except Zoro."

Law pushed his fringe up from his brow, then his hand returned to his ear, ran down the back of his head.

"He was one of the main players of those dreams. It was on the way here, in real life. In the dream, we'd already arrived and Shanks had bought me, or gained me, from Doflamingo, maybe to free me, but Zoro had won me for the night from a poker game. I had no knowledge about it until he told me, looming over me, inside me, fucking me, as I was chained to that bed. Well, in the dream he told me after the assault, but small detail. I was gagged too. It was so realistic. Terrifying, but in actual fact, he never touched me that way again. And never fucked me over to the levels my imagination tortured me with."

Though the initial attack had obviously gone a long way to ushering in the images of that night. Law could still taste the soap from the washcloth that had been shoved in his mouth in the dream. He pulled a face now as if having to scour the memory from his tongue.

"In the dream, I couldn't get over being bought again and shuffled about and used like a pawn. The feeling was such a punch to the gut. When I finally woke, I was shackled and sick, due to the flensing and the seastone, and that was the exact setting of the dreams, except there was no Roronoa-ya in the room, I had my clothes on, and there was a drip in my arm, a catheter elsewhere.

"Chopper got me out of the restraints pretty quickly, but it took me a while to feel that all I'd been experiencing was not real. Thank god it wasn't. I got Chopper to check me over just in case, but I was fine.

"That's when Luffy and I worked on some techniques so I didn't lash out like that again. Drive him away when he was trying to help me."

"Is there a pre-post-traumatic stress disorder you?"

Law grimaced. If there was somewhere to walk he'd suggest that now. They'd been talking for some time. They could walk around the ship. It was huge, but he didn't want the intrusion of others.

Marco placed the agate back in the black-haired man's palm and Law ran it between his fingers, felt its soothing dips and folds. He stood and returned it to its pouch in the drawer. He walked to the back of his room where he kept a small kettle and range, all fluid grace, despite the scars which were basically now part of his back tattoo, or was it the other way around?

Older scars take the ink of a tattoo better than young scars, so by now Law could try to cover the marks, but he felt the scarring was really too extensive, and the original injuries had bitten too deeply into his skin to be able to do much about it after all this time. He'd had more pressing concerns on his mind over the last few years, and he couldn't see his own back. He didn't like the thought of Cora's smile being disrupted, though. He'd already experienced that once, and it had been fatal for the only adult who'd genuinely cared for him after Flevance. He readied the ingredients for tea.

"I'd rather rum."

Law looked up from the small cabinet where he kept a few personal effects. "That can be arranged." He rummaged further back and pulled out a bottle tucked away, and two glasses. He poured a shot for himself and Marco, and set them on the small table just near the cabinet.

"Cards?"

"No more cuddling?"

Law shrugged, picked up the pack of cards from the table he used for casual reading and dreaming, sat down, and started shuffling. Marco stood up, stretched out, and brought over Law's sweater, his hand lingering on the Heart pirate's bare back for a minute. Straightened his own jacket. Law took his clothing from him with thanks, his tattoos now covered, except for his hands. Marco pushed up the sleeves just a little, and Law took no offense.

"I like looking at them."

Who was this man? wondered Law. He didn't mind the attention. Not from Marco.

"Pre-PTSD I was just trauma, I guess. But it's not entirely true."

Marco raised his glass and Law clinked his against it. Marco downed his in one shot. Law sipped and poured the Phoenix another. He took another sip and placed his glass on the table.

"There were some very sweet years between my first escape and my second capture. That was about ten years in all, so there were ups and downs, and I must have had PTSD then too, but you're just so much more flexible when you're younger. Able to withstand more, to bounce back, to keep your inner faith.

"As you age, in some regards, you get easier to break. You know how bad being broken feels. You're less likely at times to think there's a way out, but also have maybe experienced breaks of freedom, of being loved. Maybe you have more hope. Have been able to retrain your thinking."

Law took a deep breath.

"It was really fucking hard being captured again. And." He swallowed, and then swallowed his drink down in one gulp, "Stuff like the marines had happened before."

Marco's head shot up. Shanks had filled him in on that one. Then there'd been Law's own words in the meeting today.

"What?" The doc leaned back, his eyes narrow and mean, but Marco knew it wasn't directed at him. Probably directed inward. "I was a slave," he hissed, "And Doflamingo's slave. So you name it, I've had it done to me. Done it. Mostly under duress."

Law idly ran a finger over one of his hand tattoos, the ones he'd had blocked in to hide Doflamingo's symbol. "But the one thing, or two, they go hand in hand, that can wipe out any semblance I have of feeling human, is being shared, and publicly being humiliated, fucked. Those marines, man." Law shook his head. Wiped a hand back up his face and through his hair, tipping his head back. There was of course Doflamingo and Vergo's constant commentary and laughter, what happened after. The fact that it just didn't fucking stop.

He wasn't through quite yet. Would he ever be? Would Marco want him at all after he'd told these boring stories of banality and brutality? "Doffy and Vergo shared me constantly of course. Share. Such a beautiful word. Should be reserved for breaking bread rather than the body," Law said quietly, laying out the cards for a game of Patience. Forgetting them.

"I'm a drag tonight. Sorry, Marco," he mumbled toward the table.

Marco poured himself some more rum. Drank it down. It was heavy, their conversation. Two cups of ocha awaited them as well.

"Took, Law. They took from you. They shared inflicting the abuse and violation. They didn't share you." He ran a hand up his fellow pirate's arm, gave a squeeze of reassurance. "They can't share what you didn't give." The hatched shadows under Law's eyes were prominent as he glanced his way.

"Fucking Ito-Ito devil's power." Those strings.

"They used those?"

Law shook his head. "Only Doffy. But they maybe encapsulate the feeling of losing control over even stupid small things. He'd use it to make me eat bread when I was a kid, even though he knew I'd throw it back up. Anything to deny me my humanity. My freedom to choose."

Marco nodded grimly. He had to agree.

"You're not there now. What did you and Luffy do when it got like this?"

Law had been looking at his clasped hands on the table. He looked back at Marco. "Let me show you."

He stood and extended his hand to the man. "I'm not leading you on. I'm not playing with you. Tonight, this probably won't lead to sex, but this is how we learnt to deal with nightmares."

Marco knew he meant Luffy. The look Law sent him, try this, for me, trust me, had him reaching out his hand to connect with the younger man's.

Law led him to the bed once more. He picked up Kikoku and placed her at the head of the bed, between the bed and the wall, where he could reach for her in his sleep if he needed to, but not with him, as he usually slept. He opened the drawer and pulled out the small pouch containing the agate. Tied it to his wrist. He pulled his sweater over his head again, beautiful abs and tattoos on show, skin prickling slightly in the cold. He stepped out of his jeans, standing in his boxers. A tilt of his head indicated he'd like Marco to do the same, and he did.

After he had, Law drew Marco close to him, his hands lazily crossed on the blond man's lower back, and Marco mirrored the stance.

"Marco. I don't want to be a cocktease," he was breathing into the older man's neck and peppering it with kisses. "But I pass out or panic if things aren't properly established. Since my captivity. Since that marine prison. That was a new one, and I know it put a strain on Luffy's and my relationship.

"I don't want to sound like a princess, I don't want to be one. I know that so many of my detractors would laugh to think I could just shut down at someone touching me."

Marco nibbled his ear.

"Did you? With Doflamingo? Any of those bastards?"

Law gave a soft laugh. "Wouldn't that have been a blessing?" Though his mind quickly flashbacked to the horrific aftermath of the marine attack. Mostly, though, he just let Marco hold him. Why was he being so needy? He loved the way their chests rose together. The alliance of the Heart and the Whitebeard crew.

"Sometimes, yes. But I think my body flew into survival mode, and I'd be hyper-aware. Looking for a way out. If I did pass out, Doflamingo would rouse me again soon enough. He wanted my attention. My responses. And if I had a full on panic attack – the paralysis kind – they'd just fuck me through it."

His head was buried against Marco's neck now, his breath soft against his skin. He had to stoop slightly. The Phoenix moved his head a touch into Law's, to show solidarity. Law exhaled with relief again.

"When I was finally with someone I could trust, finally safe, I think my body gave my head and heart permission to try and process what I'd gone through, but it couldn't even begin to. Kissing, embraces, this, as long as it's not tongue fucking – you know, one-sided, the Roronoa kind – I'm okay with."

Law's hand rested on Marco's hip, his thumb in the band of his boxers. He drew in a deep breath and looked into the Phoenix's eyes.

"I like sex, with the right person, I really do. Even casual throwaway sex, as long as it's consensual. But the minute it comes to dicks and arses, the nitty-gritty, all the demons come flooding in."

"Lie down?" Marco asked, manoeuvring Law to the bed. Law nodded. They lay down, face to face, Marco cupped Law's arse. "You're okay with this?" Again he nodded. The Whitebeard pirate intently studied Law's features.

"It's mouths on dicks, hands on dicks, yours or mine that are the problem. Dicks near arseholes."

"Yours and mine?"

"No-one comes near mine," Law breathed into Marco's kiss, and his hand almost gripped the skin of the other, but rested just shy of bruising. "But it's not fair, I recognize that. It was the only way Luffy and I could have sex. Though he topped occasionally, but it was difficult for me. And I give great head, Marco. After fucking, and only after fucking, I could usually do it, have it done, but that takes all the fun out of foreplay."

"Doesn't sound like the best of times. What do we do?" Marco rolled onto his back.

"There's two ways, and both have a place, but we need to be careful."

"Mmm?"

"You take me by surprise, but I want our trust to be established first. We need a safe word, to know when to stop so I don't snap. So I don't feel subjugated after, day to day. So that we're equals."

"Mmm," Marco pulled Law to him and ran his hands up and down Law's body now, as he lay on him, wondering if he could do that now.

"We use lube, always, and try to have me face you as much as you can if we do it that way. I feel less like meat."

Marco pulled Law's face to his own and swiped his tongue across his lips. Law returned the gesture and squirmed against him slightly. He never wanted Law to feel like meat. Couldn't know the panic the younger pirate felt every time he was pushed face first into the pillows, up against the wall.

"In those cases, I like it rough. I'm trained to seek pleasure in my own pain." Law's face flushed. "But I've got to know that you won't hurt me. That you'll respect me during and after. It fucks with my thinking otherwise."

"Of course," growled Marco in his ear.

"The other. It's gentler, but it aids the first and helps quell the nightmares." And if truth be told, Law preferred it.

Marco listened.

"We become aware of the smell of each other's hair, of our bodies, of the beat of our hearts in our chests, and when we feel them, we know we're not caught somewhere beyond fucked up, but are lying together, safe, and are there for one another."

"The first ushers in the second?"

"Sooner or later."

Marco reached down and felt Law's dick through his boxers. He grunted, realising the Heart pirate was semi-erect, as was he.

"This is okay?"

Law drew in a breath. It felt good. "Mmm, but no further yet."

"Okay, smokey."

"Just let me lie and smell your hair, listen to your heart, and follow your breath." He turned so his back was to Marco, who wrapped his arms around him and spooned him.

"Okay?" He reached behind and put a hand to Marco's face.

"Mmm," he nodded. Somehow he felt Law would be worth it, so he took his attention away from his desire, and also tried to tune in to breath, heart, smell. He felt he was in rhythm with Law, and that rhythm somehow led to his eyes closing and his body sinking against Law's as that nodachi sang a few centimetres from their heads.

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 **Thank you** for reading.


	18. Chapter 18 - Landlubbers, Law, Penguin

**A/N:** **Warnings** : Mention of Past child abuse (teenage).

Acknowledgements: The back story in here about Bellamy is an adaptation from the ideas in Doctor Cyance's _Worth_. I basically kept the plot ideas, including the "reward" element (go read her fic, if you haven't. It's wonderful). Penguin's sexuality is different from that story though. The tattoo ideas are also hers.

* * *

 **Chapter 18: Landlubbers**

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Law swabbed the deck, his part of it, his shirt sticking to his back. Bepo and Penguin were kicking back on lawn recliners, with drinks and snacks, and the Whitebeard and Red-haireds were milling about here and there.

There was a risk for the Heart Pirates of capture due to their association with him, but Law was the prize in the crown. His devil's fruit was sought, and he bore the middle initial "D," – same as Ace had, Luffy did. Apparently the sworn enemies of the World Government, law and order, and the entitled world nobles who oversaw it all: the slave trading, the hoarding of treasure and resources, the destruction of towns such as his own, as Robin's.

The threat of arrest for the Heart Pirates lessened if Law wasn't with them. Bepo's bounty was only 500 Beri, after all, hardly worth the effort, lucky for Bepo. Being a stealth karate master had its benefits.

His navigator and Penguin had gone into town to procure goods for Law's floating surgery/practice. There was a lot to get and lug, so Law had no problem with them lounging now – their jumpsuits stripped to the waist, t-shirts underneath – while he worked. He liked keeping busy, and he'd tend the herb garden soon too. That was meditative.

Shanks' ship was too large to dock, so men took long boats to gather goods needed, and to have a bit of R & R. The ship operated on a skeleton crew then, Law being one of them. He craved the ground beneath his feet, to talk to someone beyond the pirate crews, but he had no desire to interact with the strong marine presence reported on this island, except to maybe decapitate a few hundred of them.

The last time he'd properly had a sense of connection to the land for any period of time was perhaps the frozen tundra of Punk Hazard, but if what Marco had told him was true, he might have a chance to set foot on land again sooner rather than later. He felt the metal in his pocket that the Phoenix had given him a few hours before. He'd held it in his palm, the touch invoking both revulsion and reassurance.

"Keep up the good work!" Penguin shouted across to him, holding up a beer, and Law flipped him off with a smile. Was that any way for a subordinate to act?

"Captain! Captain!" yelled Bepo, "Fill my drink!"

Now, that was out of character, but Bepo was his sweetest and most loyal crew member, so he rested the square mop against a wall, walked over, took the polar bear's glass, walked back to the water pump near the herb garden, and filled it. Hopefully the water was not too stale yet.

"Will you join us, boss?" Penguin looked up at him as his form cast a shadow over them. Bepo thanked him for the water with an apology.

The evening sun washed over the deck. Law wore his usual jeans and a short-sleeved black shirt, his tattoos just peeking out from the neckline, a white heart insignia on one side. The ink on his forearms and hands on display of course. The loose hem moved slightly in the sea breeze, just beginning to shift the salt and sweat of the summer day.

Penguin was so happy to see Law tanned and healthy. Marco, and Luffy before him, had done wonders for him. He sat on the edge of Penguin's recliner and gestured to his friend, his ex-lover, for a sip of his beer. The angry, frightened, brutalised and brave boy Penguin had run away with had grown into quite the specimen, in so many ways. Not just his easy good looks, which, Penguin knew, were oftentimes more a curse than a blessing. His character held reserves of kindness, knowledge and sincerity. At least for Penguin. You had to peel away the layers to get to that, but it was there. He was proud of Law, but he always had been. Hey, they'd both made it this far.

It had been hard to see him after the Strawhats had picked him up. The Heart crew had been without him for so long, considering he'd sent them away before Punk Hazard, and Penguin of all people knew just what Doflamingo and Vergo were capable of. He wished he could forget that scared, furious kid, lying next to that huge fuck, refusing to meet his eyes when Doflamingo had summoned him to his quarters, offering Law to him as a prize when they were younger.

The apprentice cartographer had prevented Bellamy and his thugs just in time from assaulting teenaged Law, only to have Doflamingo subject his favourite slave to potentially the same, as a freaking reward. He got to defile the shichibukai's favourite as recompense for saving him from being defiled. Go figure the logic. Doflamingo pawed and displayed Law like a choice cut of meat or livestock. Naked, vulnerable, the dark-haired boy had tried to pull whatever he could grab of the sheets over his face, over his body, to hide his shame, but Doflamingo wouldn't let him. The Don Quixote brand was on one of his hips, his slave status. The back of his hands bore small versions of the crew's Jolly Roger.

Sometimes Penguin wished he'd taken the blond bastard up on his offer, just so Law didn't endure whatever he'd gone through that night. But they weren't friends at that stage, and knowing Doflamingo, he'd want to oversee the whole thing. Penguin wouldn't have done anything, but if Doflamingo had a hand in it, he might not have had a choice.

There was never a good time to make an enemy of Joker, but he'd known it _really_ wasn't wise when he wasn't even fully grown yet, stuck on the open seas with the head of the Family and his executives. So he'd told the man he was straight. He did like women, after all, but he wasn't averse to men. Working on pirate ships, you took affection where you could find it. He didn't let Joker nor Law know that at that time.

When they'd first seen Law on the Red Force, not too proud to wait for the submarine, craving a hug from Bepo, (Penguin just knew), it hadn't been long since his escape from the marine base. He was jittery as hell, a cigarette – of all things – in one hand. The captain rarely smoked. And fuck, the nails of that hand.

Even though his smile was genuine when he saw them all, and even with Luffy, Chopper and his own crew loving his every word, that captivity had thrown him right back to the world of that abandoned and desperately unsure boy. Or only sure about the wrong in the world. And no wonder. Two years. Penguin grew sick thinking about it. Law was stronger than he had been back then – that came with age, and the gradual awakening of his powers – but Penguin could sense the undertow of desolation. The return of it.

It sucked that he couldn't take shore leave with them at the most popular ports, but they were all protective of Law, including the captain himself, so the sacrifice they paid was that he was ship-bound more than the rest of them. The benefit being that he grew more secure and confident with each year of freedom, as curtailed as it was.

Law handed back the beer. "I'll get my own," he said, "And then you'll tell me all about the town you just visited."

Penguin tipped the bill of his cap at him. Law lifted his legs up, made Penguin shove over, and pushed back into the lawn recliner, so they were sharing the narrow space. While his oldest friend grumbled, he shambled a beer from a small bar fridge he kept in his room, replacing it with some fresh rosemary from his garden. Killing two birds with one stone there, Doc, he thought to himself, Crafty.

"By getting your own, do you mean being a lazy fuck?"

Law grinned. "You're always saying we don't hang out enough. I'm just optimising time."

He pushed the wire of the flip-top upward, released the seal and took a sip. Lucky they were two skinny guys, as they were pretty physically close at the moment, but they'd been through a lot together, and had spent many years a lot closer. To their left, Bepo, taking a quick snooze, snored and mumbled.

"Wait, I'll make it up to you," though he knew Penguin didn't really mind the proximity. He shambled his crew member's cap to the small garden, replacing it with stalks of rosemary, coriander and lemon grass.

"For your kitchen," Law placed the herbs between them, which actually meant over their laps, because there was no room to move.

"I'm not Bepo, you know, you don't have to cuddle into me. And my cap!" Penguin moved to collect it, but Law put a hand on his arm. His hair truly was a dirty blond which might turn sandy if it was exposed to the sun long enough. Penguin's easy going and open face calmed him, as always.

Law used his thumbnail to sever a coriander leaf from the stalk. He shambled it back to the garden, where it replaced Penguin's cap. The hat was now between them, covering the remaining herbs.

"There you go, Pen." Law brushed off any dirt, and placed the cap back on Penguin's head. "It's nice to remember what your hair looks like sometimes."

"Same as it ever did." Penguin wasn't even sure if he had movement enough to retrieve his beer from the deck floor to the side of the recliner. Law used _takt_ to first put it in his own hand so it didn't spill, his other hand holding his own drink. He then passed it over.

"You missed us that much that you have to sit in my lap? We were only gone half the day."

"I'm not in your lap," Law grumbled. He wiped the sweat from his bottle of beer with his shirt.

The crew had always been pretty independent, and though the two men definitely shared history, as they'd grown and matured over the ages there were periods of time when they were out of one another's orbit, forced or voluntarily, but the ease of their friendship never faded.

Law tipped Penguin's cap up slightly. The shorter man really hoped Marco wouldn't mind. The Phoenix didn't seem too threatened by the bond between them.

Law's eyes were brimming with excitement, some kind of relief and a touch of uncertainty. He was ripe from the work he'd been doing on deck, but Penguin knew he wasn't much better. It couldn't be helped in the heat. Law took a swig on his beer, then placed it beside the recliner.

He dug into his pocket and placed a spoon and a pair of gold earrings in Penguin's hand. The blond looked at him confused.

"It's been confirmed."

Those who didn't know Law would peg his tone as disinterested or threatening. Penguin could hear in his tone the struggle to remain realistic, his form of realism, which was to distrust hope and good news.

"What? I really admire you, Law, but gold just ain't my colour, and what's this?" He held up the spoon. "A commemorative souvenir of the day you decided to crawl into my lap again? A tea-towel is far more practical."

Law laughed. A deep throaty sound. Maybe he should start collecting tea towels. The crew already gave him enough grief over his coins. Penguin knew he was solid with Marco.

"He's dead. Vergo too."

Penguin almost dropped the spoon. This had been on that bastard's face? He couldn't bear to think what he'd done to Law, to Cora – even though he'd never met Law's champion. Was that blood on the metal? What was that gunk? Knowing Vergo, it was some egg left over from his last meal.

"That pink fuck is out of my life."

Wow. What?! "These are Doffy's?" Penguin rolled the gold earrings. Law nodded, both men cringing a little at the nickname.

"It's not a joke?"

Law shook his head, had glanced at him, but they were too close to keep that gaze for long. God it wouldn't surprise him if it was, but he didn't know if he could handle it.

"Marco was in Phoenix form and saw it go down. He wasn't directly involved, and we don't know the full story, but they're gone, Pen. He physically got these for me." He pulled his beer toward him again, and took a nervous sip.

Penguin shivered a little at the spoon and earrings. He couldn't hold them for too long. It was a bit macabre, but Law was like that. He knew the captain would have preferred to have the heart of either man in his hands, and he had no doubt that he wouldn't allow them to beat one second beyond it was in his power to eliminate them. Vergo _was_ pretty good at slipping out of death's grasp, but still, Law trusted Marco. The black haired man let out a shuddering sigh. A spoon. A spoon held no power against him.

"Don't wear them."

Law shook his head.

"Or eat with that."

"God no."

"Let's hope they stay down."

Law nodded. If all went well. He retrieved the items from Penguin and placed them in his pocket again and picked up his drink. What would he do with these spoils of war?

Penguin swung his bottle around and clinked it against Law's. Both took a swig of their beers. He saw decades of worry clearing from the doctor's face even as they spoke. It must be true. His own grin hurt.

Penguin giggled. Christ, what was that? When did he ever laugh like a child? Possibility? Waves of possibility washed over both of them. How the fuck did they deal with this new freedom? Doflamingo had not come after the Heart Pirates, but he hadn't forgiven Penguin for aiding his slave in his escape, and there was a reason they'd been kept well away from Dressrosa.

Law couldn't help it, he had to touch his oldest friend. The man who'd helped him escape the first time. Their bodies were sandwiched together anyway, but he took Penguin's hand, over those wilting herbs and squeezed it. D-E-A-T-H between them and between them, and behind them. Law looked ahead instead of at Penguin.

Even while with Luffy and now Marco, Law had shared stories of his past experiences with Penguin that he couldn't bring himself to tell his lovers. No-one knew him better.

Things had been in their favour when they'd got away from Doflamingo's pirate ship in their small boat, both of them sixteen, and once they hit land, they had plenty of time to explore the new worlds their freedom gave them. Always looking over their shoulders, but free. It had been freezing those first few months as they searched for shelter and sustenance. It was natural that they sought each other for warmth and comfort, wrapped far more snugly than currently.

Guiding the small boat through the open ocean had been cold too, especially at night. The chill and being in the elements reminded Law of Cora-san's relentless search for a cure for the amber lead syndrome that had riddled his body, and it especially reminded him of the night the tall, clumsy, man shed tears for him.

Drinking and talking aloud, while Law tried to sleep, the young boy realised that Cora didn't see him as a monster, that he understood better than Law did how everything had marked him, and most importantly, that he thought Law could be saved, that he was worth saving.

Law hadn't believed any of that for himself at that point. The idea that it was a possibility was so far from the realm of his imagination and experience, that Cora's words had kindled a wishful sense of being valued by someone for the right reasons, a chance of belonging somewhere. It was a hopeful ache. He didn't fully believe it, but how he'd wanted to. He'd slept alone that night, though Cora-san was nearby, both males shedding tears, Law's unknown to Cora, and a fire kept them warm.

Penguin should have been sleeping then, as Law rowed, so they could take turns in keeping the boat in motion, but activity kept them both warm, and further from Doflamingo, so he sat behind his friend and added his manpower.

On a clear starry night, full of tension and fear, adrenaline and hope, Law could, with Penguin close by, grieve Luke and Cora, Lamie and his parents before them, in a way he had no chance to while with the Don Quixote crew.

Penguin had heard about Luke from the other crew members, and watched as Doflamingo and others, even Baby 5 and Buffalo, reined in Law's behaviour by bringing up the executed slave or the former heart executive. _See what happens to those you give your love to, Law? See what happens when you think for yourself?_ It was only safe to be loved by, and in return love, the Family; to only act for the Family's interests. The Family made sure he knew. That was his only value. It was beyond fucked up, considering how they treated him.

He was as rude and snarly as hell, but he'd never win against them, especially not when his skills as a slave were valued more than those as a doctor-in-training. When those skills were considered a substitute for individuality and humanity. There was enough seastone around to limit him if his power grew unruly.

Penguin saw Law being bulldozed into mindlessness. He'd ultimately be the perfect candidate to give Doflamingo eternal life through his devil fruit by sacrificing his own. If he had no value for his own life, how easily he'd be able to give it away. Nobody would protest and support him, even if Law did object. The _Young Master's_ power was infallible within that organisation.

Penguin had shown Law, like Cora before him, just how wrong Doflamingo's actions and expectations were, and as indecent as that man was, his North Blue crew mate was decent, and treated him equally, without wanting anything in return. Without his guidance when they first escaped, Law wasn't sure that he would have been able to navigate those waters.

Neither boy wished for Penguin to be another Luke so his plan to play it straight worked, and the teens finally explored their mutual attraction well away from the physical threat of Doflamingo. Defeating the mental demons was another story, but what a surprise Penguin's genuine attraction had been for Law. And now Law truly was free to love whom he wished without worrying about the power and sheer vindictiveness that man could use to make _him_ harm those closest to him.

On deck, now sitting on the edge of the recliner once more, giving Penguin a little bit of breathing space, Law moved to finish his work in his garden. He gathered up their empty bottles, and shambled one more for his crew mate, again stocking up his fridge with herbs. He could feel Marco checking him from the crow's nest, but there was no animosity in the energy. He had a proposition for Penguin, and they really should wake Bepo. He was itching to start a legitimate practice. Or maybe he just wanted to take a long walk in the forest.

"How would you feel about being on land?"

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 **A/N** Lots of telling and not so much showing, sorry, but Law should start collecting tea-towels ;-) Maybe one more chapter of transition before land ahoy becomes a reality. This boy has had a lot to recover from! **Thanks for reading.**


	19. Chapter 19 - a club, a diamond, a spade

**Chapter 19 – A club, a diamond, a spade: Law's shadowplay**

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"What's my bounty at, Shanks-ya? 200 beri, perhaps?"

It had taken some time for it to get that low, but since Luffy took the crown, obtaining a decrease had become a whole lot easier. Law smirked thinking he'd soon be competing with Chopper for the smallest bounty in existence, though damned if he'd ever be considered someone's pet again. Maybe he could talk Luffy into nulling and voiding it all together. There had to be some benefits to being friends with the pirate king.

While Doflamingo and Vergo walked away free, at least until their deaths, Law had remained with a price on his head, even if dwindling. That was the way of the world. The admirals had circled around the Red Hair Pirates' camp for the longest time, and Law was appreciative of the loyalty of not only Shanks' men, but also the Whitebeard crew, when they sailed with them.

Contact with the admirals was kept to a minimum, even though they'd boarded the ship once. The complicated web that had managed to protect warlords for years, had worked in his favour at the time, as Benn Beckman dressed down the elite marines for not knowing the minutiae, the sub-clauses, of their own agreements. If he'd been by himself at the time, he doubted that he could have outsmarted them, stayed ahead of them. As if they'd listen to a recitation of legalese from him if he was alone, even if he knew it inside out. Staying on or near the Red Force meant his movements were restricted, but at least the abuse was a thing of the past.

Ultimately, though, it wasn't that the warrant expired, or that his bounty decreased drastically, at least not until recently, but that one fleet admiral replaced the next. Luffy just kept overturning one monster after the other in his pursuit of his goals, and Law and the Hearts, Shanks' crew and Marco's men were sometimes at his side, or providing back up, especially when facing Kaidou. For the most part, Law kept his head down, and once Akainu was transferred out to far distant lands, Fujitora gaining in power, Aokiji influencing things from the sidelines, the former shichibukai's status tumbled, which was just the way he wanted it. He couldn't believe that Aokiji became an ally of sorts after Jean Bart had put his all into escaping his ice attack after Marineford. Maybe that showed the true perversity of Akainu's fixations.

Law had grown attached to a block of land on one of the islands the Red-haired pirates visited once or twice a year. And when he'd been with them for six years, he knew he just wanted a place to call home. Shanks let him go easily, but was sad to do so. He'd grown fond of this unflappable surgeon who pieced together any member of his crew as easily as he cut them apart, and who was fierce in a fight. It would be good to have a contact on the land though, seeing how the new governments were forming.

Luffy and Law had lasted two years, and Shanks had loved seeing how they flourished amidst the tutelage of the other. Of course Law could be a moody shit, and boy did he need his coffee in the morning, but knowing more of his back story the yonko was surprised he wasn't a whole lot more off-kilter at times. Luffy was just the kind of emotional bulldozer required at that stage of his life, and the two men understood each other on a level far removed from Shanks' own connection with Garp's grandson. Luffy's needs weren't shallow either. But Luffy was Luffy and he didn't have the time that Law needed to recover, which was crucial in those first years after his escape.

Though nothing in the world is guaranteed, constant adventures and challenges weren't going to give Law the space to let his confidence rally at that stage. Both understood the situation, and didn't want to let the other go, but a lot changes in two years. The two years without and the two years with. The captains had the utmost respect for each other, along with all of the frustration and pettiness that goes with any relationship, but personal goals and needs had to take priority. Shanks had learnt that across the years in his dealings with Benn.

Zoro might have grumbled, but he was up for any excitement. In those early days, Law just had to know he was as safe as possible from recapture. He knew this at a fundamental level. The personal risk to him was too high to join the Strawhats regularly, not to mention that Nami probably would have skinned him alive for giving Akainu even more purpose to pursue the Thousand Sunny. Some captain he was, but his crew was safe, and though he fixed people more than fought them, he maintained all skills.

Shanks was glad to see Law progress in ability and strength, and to see his power develop in a fair and balanced way. To have the opportunity to do so. Over the years, things had followed a fairly calm sort of path, interrupted with the usual shenanigans of thwarting or inciting coups, so he didn't pay too much mind when the Polar Tang crept away in the night a number of times over the last year. A subterfuge here. A reconnaissance there. All part of a pirate's life. Or of those who owned submarines.

The Polar Tang submerged when they were near this island or that, always to return before daybreak. Marco flew overhead for a while as it departed, but returned to the Red Force long before it did. When Shanks thought back on it, it was three times or so that he could recall it leaving. Law had never done anything to endanger the Red-Hair crew, so he didn't ask. Marco wasn't offering any information either. Let Law have his secrets.

The surgeon was at breakfast each morning after the forays into . . .what? Looking no more tired than usual, which meant exhausted, turning the page of a paper or a book, blowing across his coffee to cool it, giving Benn answers to the few words he was unable to pinpoint for the crossword.

A few mornings after the first night time disappearance, Shanks grimaced at a particularly gruesome article in the paper detailing a man with a snail-like condition. That is, his body generated and encased him in mucus. He'd been rolled in a factory mountain of salt and held down. A slug's spontaneous response to being doused in sodium chloride is to produce an immense amount of mucus so as to contain the salt in order to remove it quickly from the body. The chemical compounds of the body are altered by the salt though, and so the production of mucus never ceases. Shanks shook the paper out over his breakfast tray. He hadn't known so much about the genetic make-up of molluscs before reading.

No-one was sure what killed the unfortunate soul. It seemed he had a reaction similar to the gastropods when faced with salt, but that it had also burned through his skin. However, forensics said he produced so much mucus it was likely he fatally dehydrated himself, maybe before the fire consumed his body. A third element. The viscous substance was highly flammable, and a staff, its club-like adornment doubling as a lighter, was found on the scene. It had been used as a stake, pushed into the man's mouth and pinned his head to the ground through the back of his throat. The lighter was detachable, and found nearby.

* * *

 **xxxx**

* * *

Shanks thought Law and Marco were good together. Three years and a bit for them so far. They looked good together, they sat comfortably, they argued in that infuriatingly logical way Benn had, they gave each other space or support on the anniversaries of loss. The Whitebeard crews, all the crews, that had a vague connection or alliance with Luffy were waiting to see how the world would evolve, what role they would play in it.

Marco had wound down his commitments over the past year or so as he and Law made their plans, but he kept an eye on events. Shanks was waiting too, and participating. Luffy needed advisors, after all. He was still young. Shanks and Benn on the sea and Marco and Law on the ground wasn't a bad combination, but no-one really knew how things would evolve, and while the new-new world was reassembling itself another grisly death was reported.

A man had been tied to a pole with what appeared to be ripped up strips of the Don Quixote Jolly Roger, but which, on closer observation, were a continuous but fluid line of steel – razor sharp, diamond hard. Though it appeared that the metal had kept the man tied to the pole, upside down like a disrespected flag, it had also severed all of his major arteries and he'd bled out. The blood streaking his face blended with the unique stripes already covering his cheeks.

Shanks read the story to Benn at the time, while Law poured himself some ocha and went so far as to get cups for them as well, calm and silent as always. Benn wondered at the composition of the bindings. The redhead wondered what made the Heart captain courteous one moment, curmudgeonly the next

The Emperor – could he claim that title still? How was that going to pan out? – was looking forward to being welcomed into Marco and Law's home once it was established. Law told him about the wood-fired pizza oven they were planning to build in the yard of the house they were hoping to buy. The house was nestled into a hill, the balcony jutting out over the road and village below, providing ocean views. The doc couldn't eat pizza, but Marco liked it, and they could use the oven to cook other things beside. Shanks adored pizza, especially Marinara.

There'd been a scarcity of the type of brick needed for the oven's construction, but the blond and brunet seemed to have no trouble finding a source. Of course, given the kinds of roles they had and businesses they were in, that wasn't too surprising. Pirates were in the market of securing and creating scarce commodities.

Subsequent to discussing this tidbit of domestic ambition, Shanks' eye turned to an article about a swarthy man who'd been trapped in an industrial strength kiln. He really had to give up reading the paper at breakfast if he wanted to keep his food down.

It seemed the poor bugger had been bound, maybe with seastone. Those inspecting the case were not sure. There wasn't much left of him. Just a helmet and melted shoulder guards. Bones, a few teeth. The heating process in the kiln went from 204 degrees Celsius to 1316 degrees. That was a strangely specific figure, Shanks thought. He wondered if Marco could withstand it. The Phoenix rose from the ashes all the time, so he guessed so. It was the temperature at which bricks vitrified, that is, got their gloss on.

Oh, wait, he'd had his head all but severed from his neck – but not enough to kill him, it was the heat that did that – with a spade that investigating forces found to his side. The metal survived, the wooden handle burnt through.

He glanced over the galley where Bepo presented Law with a commemorative tea towel from Zou. The bear had just returned from a month of travel. The Heart captain placed his book on the table, and held the cloth up to admire it better. Its border consisted of . . . carrots? and Shanks couldn't make out the design in the middle from this distance. Law nodded his thanks, folded it carefully, and urged the Mink to sit down so as to learn more of his trip. Bepo's face was wreathed in smiles. The Red Force captain shook his head. Law and his kinks. He'd be collecting bottle tops next.

He glanced back to the article. Fuck, what a way to go. He reminded himself to never cross the Heart doctor, you'd never see it coming. He wondered how much the assistance he'd given Law in honing his own haki had helped in taking down the executives.

He remembered that meeting on Dressrosa so long ago; that boy, his broken arm and a face full of resentment, hemmed in by the sheer size of Doflamingo and Vergo either side of him, and Trebol's jeers echoing through the room, telling him how stupid he was. If he only knew how to address Vergo correctly, submitted in the correct way, the pain would stop. Like hell it would.

That a fourteen-year-old could bristle and fight against all that was wrong and suffer the consequences, and that grown men – giants in comparison to him – felt no compunction at inflicting the pain that drove him to do so, was aberrant. It was desired that Law form an unquestioning allegiance, the kind that came from one beating too many, but instead the Family inculcated a measured ruthlessness within him that came to the fore when it really counted.

It took some time for the doctor's rancour to manifest. In battle, he was pragmatic and never seemed to kill for kicks, depending upon the marine. As much as Luffy was impulsive, Law knew how to bide his time.

Shanks was aware there were sadistic doctors out there. He really didn't peg the dark-haired pirate as one, despite his reputation. He looked at him now, carefully picking up Bepo's gift, taking hold of his sword, and walking with the Heart navigator out the door, leaning his head to, and nodding with attentiveness as the Mink excitedly described something, maybe a date he'd had.

The emperor knew Law wouldn't speak about it, these deaths. What had their last words been? Probably fealty to Doflamingo. He wondered if the surgeon _had_ allowed them any last words, to perhaps apologise for the misery they'd subjected him to, the lives they'd cut short, or to curse him out. Did he leave them their tongues? So often had he been desecrated by them. He was a dab hand with that nodachi.

If there was damnation, Shanks hoped it was as relentless and unforgiving for those three as the torment they'd insisted Law accept as his calling.

* * *

 **A/N Toasterino:** Thanks so much for you comment. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic. Law catches a bit of a respite, but you know those boys with the "Will of D" - a life steeped in tragedy, or at the least, a complicated life. He got some revenge though. I hope he feels better x He is loved.

 **Thank you** everyone who reads the fic.


	20. Ch 20 - Bliss, Marco, Law: Luffy visits

**A/N:** The idea for the tattoos on the bridges of Law's feet comes from a doujinshi I read, between Law and Penguin, a Korean artist, I think. I don't know if others have included that idea but the tatts looked very appealing. Great artist. You'll find a translation on onepiecedoujin tumblr (not mine at all). The artist is CM. It's not a fluffy doujinshi - just a warning (not incredibly graphic though).

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 **Chapter 20: Bliss/ Law/ Marco – Luffy pays a visit**

* * *

Marco could never resist running his fingers lightly through Law's hair as he passed him on the way to the counter, his hand dropping down the curve of his ear, a soft tug on one of his earrings. Law never seemed to mind. The group sat in the bar that Marco and Law ran in a beach hut with few walls, but a thatched roof, the ocean nearby. The lull of the water pushing in and out tempered the late morning conversation. Out of business hours, they lounged in the plastic lawn chairs serving as the bar's furniture.

Law wore black linens, straight legged, but not tight, not tapered, loose at the ankles, shorts never really being his style. Marco mused that he should adopt them. His legs were one of the few areas relatively clean of scarring, aside from traces of Doffy's strings, which could be found on any surface. Luffy was never seen out of shorts, and the Phoenix felt comfortable wearing them, though like Zoro, he was sporting cut-offs of some kind today. The sun filtered through cracks in the ceiling, and the blond was more than happy that he and Law had decided to put down roots here.

Law tipped his head into Marco's large, calloused hand. Briefly. Marco loved the streaks of grey glittering through his still mostly night-sky black hair. He was only mid-thirties, but he'd had strands of grey since he was a teenager. His sexy nana. Luffy had Law's attention though. Luffy. He was practically on the older man's lap, as they used to be when they were lovers, when Luffy was much younger than now.

The laugh, low and deep from Law, the delight as he savoured the bond the two had developed from survival, drinking each other in. The two of them lean, taut, tanned and aged. Tough as nails. the Phoenix knew, even as Law's tattooed hand reached out to draw Marco's in, the two dark-haired men just marvelled at, and were so grateful for, having made it through.

They'd managed to evade the wrath of Akainu, Kizaru and Doflamingo, monsters all, and either one had witnessed the other when it hadn't seemed remaining alive was an option. Had saved the other at that time. Marco knew the affection was, _Look at this fucking miracle. We're still breathing. And you played a huge part in that_. So he didn't mind when Law let go of his hand and nuzzled into Luffy like a cat, with that smile full of innocent love and pleasure that Marco knew was especially for Strawhat. He wasn't jealous. He'd loved Ace after all, and had vowed to protect Luffy at Marineford. It was Law who'd actually done the operation to save his life, though. But Luffy wouldn't have made it to the submarine without Marco's intervention.

As with all the fights, it was a group effort. However, Law and Luffy's involvement with each other had been the terminal factor. You couldn't break that kind of connection.

Law and he had been together almost five years now, and Marco valued how much deeper and stronger their relationship grew with each passing month, week, day. There was a stillness in Law that matched his own, and he admired the way the man often sat back and assessed, and spoke when he had something to say. He was communicative though, but not rash. He had a quiet, sardonic, ridiculous, sharp sense of humour that could give Marco whiplash, and have him doubled over with laughter at other times.

Luffy and he were good for each other at the time they had needed each other, but it was inevitable that their personalities weren't built for the long haul. He'd helped heal Law though, he really had, and for that, both Marco and the Heart pirate were glad.

Law had had to lay low as well, he'd _had_ to, it couldn't be helped. You don't escape from the marines and expect no-one to come after you. Distance helped the heart grow fonder, but the hearts growing fonder had been Luffy's and Zoro's. The Strawhats had too much to do, and didn't want to sail with Shanks. Law was too much of a target to be with them.

Time had taught Law to be a pragmatist and though he'd hoped things could last he could feel when they were frayed. It didn't help that he'd had so much to work through; that negotiating their sex life was crossing a minefield. Even so, he was pleased how far they'd come in the time allowed them, how far he'd come. Some semblance of normal.

When he'd been arrested from the Don Quixote compound, execution, the straightforward kind, had seemed the only form of hope, salvation. Now he was thankful for every day he could breathe the air as a free man, and step on the soil of the earth. In his captivity, and soon after it, he hadn't thought it possible. He just couldn't imagine that far for himself. He'd been too numb.

Marco brought beers over, soda water for Luffy, and brushed Law's lips with his own as he dispensed the drinks. His lover had tipped his head his way, always acknowledging him, validating him, reassuring him.

The Whitebeard commander sat beside Zoro, impassive on the other side of the table, the rattan, dried leaves and bamboo walls woven behind them. Arms crossed, the younger swordsman's face betrayed nothing. After all, Luffy had been his partner for over six years now and visits to Law, whether on Shanks' ship, or his and Marco's new abode were not uncommon, though not super regular, ranging from one to five times a year. It depended upon which way the winds blew.

Luffy always returned to Zoro's bed, and though he might literally sleep with Law – that was something Luffy did with everyone – he never _slept_ with him. Zoro could handle it.

Law had warmed to him over the years and vice versa, and with that came Marco's acceptance. There was always the scratch of animosity though. Law didn't lie. He didn't forget. He did forgive though. As the doctor patched up crew member after crew member, and word got back to the Strawhats of any skirmishes he'd been involved in alongside Shanks and Marco, and after Zoro faced Doflamingo once and wouldn't have survived if not for Luffy's intervention; after Akainu and Kizaru relentlessly pursued the Thousand Sunny, vilifying Law all the time, even in his absence, for what? For what? For saving Luffy? For being a 'D'? – Zoro admired that the tattooed pirate kept going, he kept fucking keeping on, despite them all, to spite them all.

The thought that Marco, Luffy, Chopper and Robin, hell, even Nami, loved him must have been based on something tangible, something sustainable. Plus, he was a good swordsman. They'd fought together against Kaidou. Law as part of Shanks' contingent, but together with his own crew and the Strawhats too. Law had been pivotal to the success of that battle, or to the survival of the fighters. They'd all taken some damage.

He hadn't given Law a chance at all when they'd rescued him, back . . . when? And he'd assaulted him. In his sick bed too. How had he justified that to his own self? Zoro thought back, puzzled at his behaviour. He'd acted like the worst of the World Government, just like that scum Doflamingo, and he wanted to think better of himself. So, as Law and Luffy continued to chatter – at least Luffy was in his own seat now – he clinked his bottle with Marco's and made a toast with the blond.

"To their freedom," he said, jerking his head faintly that way. No way the two devil fruit users could hope for safety when they were pirates, and both kept cutting their lifespans short by over-using their powers.

"Indeed," Marco said, and both tipped their bottles back to take a swig. Law and Luffy chose that moment to bring their chairs closer to the table and therefore closer to the group. They also lifted the drinks that Marco had brought over, with thanks.

"Cheers." Four voices intermingled, interspersed with Luffy's unchanged giggle, the clink of glass.

Law, barefoot as he often was, pulled his feet up on the seat, rolled up gifts from the pirate king and Zoro tucked into the side. The same design that graced the back of his hands was inked onto the tops of his feet. Zoro wondered when he'd got those? Ouch. When had he last seen Law barefoot? The doctor leaned back somewhat, but looked over his knees with a soft and relaxed expression at all at the table. Luffy was ready to take over the group conversation, and Law was happy to let it happen. There'd be time to exchange niceties with Zoro later, maybe some swordplay.

* * *

 **A/N: Just a quiet** chapter.  
Dear **Guest** , thanks for your comment and encouragement. Apart from general flashbacks here and there, I don't think we'll get too much more of Law and Doflamingo's history from here on. Thanks for commenting, and thanks to all the readers for reading. Much appreciated.


	21. Ch 21 - Party continues, Smoker, Kureha,

**A/N** : No warnings. Smoker makes an appearance though

* * *

 **Chapter 21: Old friends visit and revisited: The party continued**

* * *

The bar was jumping later. Times were quieter since Luffy had found One Piece, and the more upright, or trustworthy at least, members of the marines came to power. With the demise of Doflamingo and Vergo, others had followed.

Akainu and Kizaru were transferred to desk jobs and outposts a long way from people, Law hoped, a long way from any living creature. Smoker was one of Fleet Admiral Fujitora's most important admirals. He was still physically powerful despite the extra years on him. Law didn't know if those guys ever lost strength. Look at Garp. Luffy had achieved his goal with the help of men like Smoker in the government, Fujitora, supporting them, covertly and sometimes directly protecting them.

When Marco and he realised that both Luffy and the gruff marine would be passing through about the same time, they struck on the idea of a survival celebration. Or Marco did really. Law just wanted a catch-up. Marco was keen on the day especially being to celebrate his partner's survival. He knew that Luffy had fought hard too, and often, but the odds Law had beaten to come out leagues above semi-coherent, both in heart and mind, was something he wanted to acknowledge. He thought it was extraordinary. His birthday, one day after Marco's, had been a couple of weeks earlier too, but Marco knew he liked to keep that low key. Most things low key. He could celebrate the Phoenix's birthday, but find himself mysteriously all booked out with extra shifts and commitments for his own. So this was a casual affair, but Marco worked hard behind the scenes to make sure that some of the main players in Law's past were there.

It wasn't a massive celebration, so it didn't matter that Benn and Shanks were away, and that Shachi and Penguin couldn't take time off from their own very busy bar to pop in. They lived close by, and Law and Marco knew they'd see them soon. Likewise, Robin and Chopper were on an island that was a ferry ride away. But it was special enough. Marco loved seeing Law smile. _Made it this far_ was the unspoken sentiment.

Smoker and Tashigi, and Luffy and Zoro had been dropping by anyway. Circles of friendship and acquaintance fluctuated, depending on who was in the area – theirs was a port town.

In the bar now, Tashigi didn't really mind seeing Law's hand rest on Smoker's hip. The pirate was looking good. Still with those gold hoops, the slightly mocking smile, but she'd learned to find the softness in it, or maybe he sent her a softer smirk nowadays. He was still tanned. He had a natural olive complexion anyway, and obviously kept fit.

She wondered about his brand. Remembered Akainu humiliating him, and it made her all the more relieved that he stood against the bar, leaning over and mixing their drinks himself – the barkeep pulling up the ingredients for him – relaxed, comfortable and grateful, she could feel it, in Smoker's presence, at least. Free. Both men were easy to embarrass, but Law was better at teasing.

He was a creature of habit, even if the spotted jeans and hat were not in sight at present. He still wore a short-sleeved black button-up shirt, low cut, with his crew, his ex-crew's? heart design on the pocket. Maybe that detail was different. She eyed the swirls that could be seen of his chest tattoo. His forearm, back of hands and finger tattoos were on display too of course.

They all dressed casually for the warmer weather, and like the locals, Law didn't wear shorts, but lightweight slacks. He was wearing flip-flops now, his feet no longer bare, though they didn't provide much cover. She noted the ink there, too. That was new. She was proud she'd helped him, even if it had been under Smoker's orders.

Law was talking. He hadn't stopped. So unlike the battered and bruised prisoner, or the smug and surly opponent she'd faced in the past. Tashigi wasn't really in the conversational circle yet, but she would be.

Law had seen Smoker across the years, and he'd thanked him too, but he felt he'd never really been able to convey just how much he thought he owed the man. He'd only seen him intermittently, and not often in this relaxed kind of situation. Usually it was after a battle, or business on Shanks' ship, for some reason. Of course they'd had to keep their distance from each other while he was a wanted man. How broken he'd been when the marines arrested him. He couldn't express it at the time, but the kindnesses, small and large, had gone a long way toward rehumanising him.

He recalled the night in Kureha's infirmary when the then vice-admiral had passed him a note telling him he was working with the Strawhats for his rescue. That had turned his life around. It had saved him. He would have been publicly debased and executed if Smoker hadn't kicked that plan into action. The older man couldn't prevent the assaults that occurred while Law was in prison. He didn't have that much authority against Akainu and Kizaru at the time. But Smoker had removed him from harm in the case of Doflamingo and Vergo, and the grunt marines too if Law really thought about it. Smoker, Tsuru, Kureha and Tashigi had then somehow pulled off his rendition away from that hellhole. In the nick of time. The idea that Akainu and Kizaru were to take complete control of the case and his custody the day after the rendition occurred still made his blood run cold.

Smoker chomped down on his cigar (he'd cut down). The pub shack was outdoors and far enough away from polite society that Smoker could still light up. Law recalled the man pressing his forehead against his own and giving him hope as he sat on that prison bed. He'd had to act the tough guard for surveillance and had punched him in his already bruised stomach a few seconds later, but Law had known he was on his side.

They'd had a quick fling, before Luffy, before his captivity. It was always hot, hurried and rough with Smoker, but there was an unstated recognition that Law was more than what the marines and freaking Doflamingo had made him out to be. Than what Smoker made him out to be. Law felt it in some, not all, of his actions. Smoker was always conflicted with his views about pirates. He might not have known much about Law's past then.

They'd fought together at Punk Hazard. But Law had changed his and Tashigi's personalities, and cut out his heart at one stage with his _Mes_ technique. Literally. It was as well he'd forgiven him.

He was totally and utterly Marco's, and he knew what Smoker had with Tashigi was solid, so it was no threat when he removed Smoker's cigar, bent down slightly, tipped the admiral's chin up, and kissed him quickly on the lips. Gently. Not the hurried, snarled things they'd sought from each other previously.

Law's grey eyes sought and gave quick reassurance to the older man in the same way they'd communicated at the marine base, except they could both smile freely now. There was something to smile about now. The two were primordially connected. Their interaction had somehow managed to loosen the sea of ice around either of their hearts at a crucial time of their lives, still while doing their best to freeze the other out. Neither of them had understood it. Circumstance wasn't going to give them the chance to.

He then wrapped his arms around the admiral, like he used to with Cora-san, except he'd been a whole lot shorter then, and leant his head lightly against Smoker's beautiful salt and pepper hair. The marine's arms awkwardly went around him in return, and Law could feel he was still well-muscled. "Thank you," Law murmured, "Thank you so much."

Smoker squeezed tighter before he could think about what he was doing, smiling into the black fluffy hair. A smile no-one would see. Law was so vulnerable. He'd seen him after those Doflamingo attacks. The Doflamingo inspired-attacks at the marine base, and watched on the CCTV how he came back disheveled and he supposed totally fucked over – from what Kureha told him – from interrogation with Akainu and Kizaru. His heart went out to him.

He too wondered about the brand. He knew he must feel safe – or be really drunk – and he didn't appear to be, to show his feelings so openly. Smoker was just happy that this one could stay alive, though displaying that publicly wasn't really part of his _modus operandi._ either. He was sure there were still nightmares. How couldn't there be? But thank god he was breathing.

"Law," and Smoker ran his hand up his back. "Law. Tashigi. Marco."

Law pulled back. The cigar hadn't burned too far. He still smiled, was relaxed. Was he stoned? He gave Smoker the cigar, turned his head, and stretched his hand out to Tashigi. She was still slightly wary of him. He'd cut her in half once, and could do it again.

Law tipped his head to the side. An invitation. "C'mon Tashigi-san. You'll get to tell the tale of holding hands with the Surgeon of Death."

She took his tattooed fingers, and smiled. "I've done that before."

"Outside of handcuffs, I mean." Droll. Mouth downturned, his eyes and voice reflecting his humour. Maybe it was only law enforcers and breakers who really understood each other.

"Sorry, Tashigi," he said once she was ensconced.

"For?" Her glasses were a little fogged up in the humidity of the island. She sipped the drink Law had mixed for her. "It's not drugged, is it?" She pushed the beverage away in slight horror.

He shook his head. "Of course not." Took a sip of his own beer, the three of them standing near the main bar. He didn't kill by poison . . . often. His eyes lively, the dark marks always present under them, his blue-black hair the wild part of him that emphasised his underlying taste, _wabi-sabi_ in human form.

"It's a good night, Smoker, Tashigi-san. I never thought I'd live this long. Hell, I didn't think I'd make my thirteenth birthday. You know that."

Did they know that? Smoker, perhaps. Law had matured into a capable, strong, self-assured man, Tashigi thought. His past wasn't his present. Not entirely. Though there were parts he was just unable to gouge away, and parts he wanted to remember.

He took her hand again for a while, swung it. He wasn't threatening. She knew from Smoker, from his partnership with Luffy and Marco, that he was gay.

"Are you pleased I didn't finish you at Punk Hazard?"

She blushed at the memory. "You bisected me."

His lips twitched. "Sorry, but I didn't kill you. You wanted me to."

She nodded.

"I was cruel," he said, looking up. "I had to be. I was undercover at the lab, and I didn't want you guys sticking around, but my words weren't my own."

"Weaklings can't choose their way of death," Tashigi breathed out.

Law nodded. Doflamingo had said it to him time again and over. "I was just repeating Joker's words. I heard them again after, and had heard them so many times prior, they were just scorched into my soul. I'm sorry, Tashigi-san."

"But she didn't die," Smoker said, and there was acknowledgement in his eyes. "Though you didn't have to say anything, you saved her."

Law was thankful he saw his method, even though it just cemented his reputation as a sadistic bastard. For _not_ killing someone that time around. Tashigi looked at it from that perspective for the first time. She'd saved face, in a way. She could hate his nature instead of the experience.

"Law." He looked at her. "I get it now. You saved me by being an arsehole."

He shrugged. "I don't know that I'd thought it through."

"You did though."

"I don't think you're weak, Tashigi-san. And even if you were, who am I to play god?"

Smoker grunted from his corner. He appreciated the thought, but when had Law got so sentimental?

"As a D, aren't you the enemy of the gods?"

"Apparently," said Law with a small grin. What did Smoker know about that?

"And an arsehole."

Law's grin widened. It was a given.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Kureha came, Tsuru too. Law didn't show it, but he was gobsmacked. He sat at their table in the corner for hours. Late afternoon melted into evening. Smoker and Tashigi joined them. He'd not really ever been able to meet Tsuru before, and she was formidable. Kureha had always been a tough old bird, and boy could she drink. Shot after shot. She'd put Nami to shame, and that was saying something. Chopper would be so jealous that he was sitting here with his idol. A lot of the crowd in the pub gave that table a wide berth though.

She put a hand against his chest. Only an old bird like her could do that. "Hmm, you're looking a lot better than the first time we encountered each other."

Law looked down. Well, of course.

"You're clean."

He looked slightly panicked. Looking across at Smoker. Don't let her go there.

"Nobody's ripped you apart," and she touched his shoulder, her eyes indicating his back. And though she meant Kizaru's flaying of his skin, they all knew she meant it in other ways too. Law wasn't keen on a conversation recapping all the ways he'd been violated while at the marine prison, and so appreciated Kureha's next words. The old woman looked past him and then directly into his eyes.

"Young man, I know so much time has passed, so I'm talking about ancient history really, but I wanted to help you so much more then. You probably would have rejected it, if you had the strength, but I couldn't stand to see them torture and wreck such talent, such spirit. And why? Because you helped Luffy? Because of a stupid brand? Ah, I felt for you, so much. But if I were to help you, I had to keep my distance and act professionally, which was coldly. You understand that, don't you?"

"He is a pirate," Smoker grumbled.

Law ignored him. He did understand Kureha. He recalled being thrown into her office after Kizaru and Akainu were done with him. He could barely walk. He swallowed and nodded. She'd insisted on keeping the key for his cuffs so he could be freed. When everything about his physical being was vile to the touch, she'd not shied away from contact. He indicated another round for the table. These were all on the house. Marco would kill him.

"And a doctor," Kureha looked up at Smoker, thinking of Drum Island. "I wanted to talk about the ope ope no mi, and the operations and healing you'd done. Wanted to give you some tips, to get some."

Law nodded again. They'd shared a lot of information across the years. "I itched to get into your office too, Doctor. It couldn't be helped. They either wanted to use me for my abilities, or just fuck me up. I'm sure they knew we could have an intelligent conversation, but that wasn't Akainu's aim. It's not your fault."

"Nor yours," said Tsuru, actually, looking across the table. "Except that, as my fellow admiral pointed out, you chose to be a pirate."

"Well, you guys did destroy Flevance."

"Fair point."

Law saw Marco across the room. Looked out at him and the two exchanged a smile. Some of the other pirates wondered what the top dogs were doing in here, and what was Law doing sucking up to them, being so cosy? They remembered his stint as a shichibukai. That didn't last long.

On the other hand, was there such a thing as a pirate since Luffy had come into power? Somehow Law and Marco's shack could strike that balance between renegade authority and truthful renegades. And the pirate king seemed to have no trouble with it.

Law's earrings glinted a little in the lights that had just turned on overhead.

"You all overrode and subverted the call of duty. I knew you couldn't show empathy to a pirate, and especially not the Surgeon of Death, and a supposed Don Quixote subordinate, so I'll always be grateful for what you could do. You saved my life in more ways than one. Really. There wasn't much left inside when they took me from Doflamingo's compound."

He raised his glass, water at the moment, for pacing, and clinked the bottles and glasses around the table.

"When I ran into that freak again, because of course I did. He was a free man while I was still a fugitive," he looked at Tsuru again. "Thanks World Government."

Tsuru smirked. Smoker looked disturbed. It hadn't really been their decision.

"And when Kizaru and Akainu paid a visit, and all they could do was remind me that my wanted poster stated loudly and clearly that I was a consort, a bearer of loose morals, a slave, and all the motherfucking goddamned shit I went through because of it, when they tried to convince me that I deserved it, brought it on myself, it was all I could expect – and those words were hard to get out my head – my friends would always bring up your names.

"Powerful allies in powerful places. I don't know your reasons for helping, but the fact you did, and didn't leave me to fester and die, got me through some really dark places."

Kureha levelled her gaze upon him.

"So, what you did, within the confines of your duty, it was more than enough, and more than most. The opposite of what Akainu or Kizaru or those marines ever did. So, in my eyes, you did better than well," Law said. "I wouldn't be here if not for you." And he bowed his head.

"You're a good kid, for a pirate," Tsuru said, sipping some Irish cream with a splash of coffee. "Some of us knew Roci." Had chased after Doflamingo.

"You've come a long way, Law. Now drink up you maudlin bastard."

That was Kureha, not Smoker. Law laughed. Tipped back the beer accompanying his water and drained it.

XXXX

He passed by Luffy's table on his way to speak to Marco. Everyone mingled. The atmosphere, magic. Law felt special. He really did. Relaxed. Like life could be great. That drawing attention wasn't always a big fat negative. He loved all these people. He never resented their help. He only wished that Shachi, Penguin, Robin and Chopper had been there, but he saw them often enough. Bepo too. Shanks and Benn.

He tipped Strawhat's head back and gave him a small kiss which was returned. Quick, fleeting. Luffy was telling some kind of story about some kind of fish he caught, if the way his hands were stretched out was anything to go by. And he was rubber. Boy could he stretch.

Law continued walking and squeezed Zoro's shoulder to show he meant no harm. Zoro quickly put his hand on Law's to show him it was okay, though he felt the slight warning in it, and then the doctor was in front of Marco.

He wasn't drunk, just happy. He wrapped his arms around his lover and buried his face into his neck, deeper and with more intent than he had with Smoker. His blond partner kissed Law's cheek. He loved seeing him like this. So carefree.

"Thank you, Phoenix," Law sighed. "It's the best. I'm so glad to be here with you."

Marco laughed. "Did someone slip you a truth serum?" He murmured into the blue-black hair.

Law looked at him, all grey eyes and affection. "I just have so much less to worry about, you know? Especially cos you're with me."

Someone _had_ slipped him a truth serum. Anyone from a distance could see that both Law and Marco packed muscle. Still, their embraces were tender and trusting, respectful and equal.

"How's the bar going?" Law asked. Marco was taking almost all care of that.

"I'm run ragged," Marco said. "All these folks want to talk to my righthand man, and he can't help out."

Law smiled at him.

"But we'll manage," and the Phoenix gave him a quick kiss again before heading to the bar where Max, the barkeep, was waving at him.

* * *

 **A/N:** A lot of fluff for you all. Probably totally OOC. Life's going a little _too_ well for Law. Thanks for reading.


	22. Ch 22 - The party continues: Kid

**A/N WARNINGS: Trigger warnings. Explicit. Sexual Assault. Mature Content. Language**

* * *

 **Chapter 22: The party continues - Kid**

* * *

As the evening dipped into night, the rowdiness increased. A steady rumble of conversation, glasses clinking, bottles opening, the smell of cigarettes that would have permeated everything if not for the sea breeze and the open design of the hut, filled the space. Law wandered to the other end of the shack at the sound of a crash, maybe some chairs overturning. The fracas was mostly lost in the general din, but this was his and Marco's business, so they were attuned to anything that might disrupt it.

There were some locals out and about, but the party was mainly a private affair. However, Law and Marco did know the locals. They bought food and supplies from them, and Law helped them out with medical needs, and the bar needed them to survive. The noise came from the area they'd been drinking in. But, it wasn't exactly their neighbours causing a ruckus, but Eustass Kid squaring off with one of them, Michel.

Law knew the huge ex-super nova would decimate him and Killer was nowhere in sight to calm his captain. Michel was also a big man, a fisherman. Law admired him, and always bought food for the pub from his catch. Sanji would have been so jealous. He was strong, with an open, no-nonsense personality. Honest and he could throw back more than a few, but he was no match for the devil fruit user.

Eustass had drunk more than enough, and he usually didn't need alcohol to start something up, so he was more than ready to tear someone or something into pieces. He'd been quieter of late, in terms of his exploits on the big wide sea, and Law sometimes enjoyed the rivalry between the two of them. They weren't close, but the Kid Pirates had been in the area, so here they were. Law had reservations, Marco more so, but Law had ultimately invited them. Alliances and allegiances were delicate things in these early stages of new government.

Eustass raised a hand and Law could see that Michel, his face fierce and his body ready to pounce, would soon be pummelled to the ground.

"Room." The blue dome appeared.

"Shambles." He replaced Eustass Kid with a signboard from the road outside. Marco would chastise him for closing them off to potential customers, but they weren't really letting in any walk-ins tonight anyway.

Michel, casual in his loose t-shirt and jeans, and the few far more colourful Kid pirates there, looked a little startled as the board clanked to the ground. But when Heat looked across and saw Law, he nodded in agreement at his actions. All settled back to their corners, to their friends, to their drinks, and Law went to find Eustass before he raged back inside.

It wasn't cold outside. It rarely was on this island. Its temperate condition was something both Law and Marco enjoyed and it contributed to the easy going pace of their lives. They worked hard, but they took time out for themselves and the things they liked to do. In the same ways the locals did. Eustass sat on the kerbside of the road nearest the beach and bar, looking confused. Law sat himself down next to him, his arms loosely drawn around his knees.

"The fuck, Trafalgar?"

"Eustass."

"What was that for?"

"Thought you might like some fresh air."

Sassy.

Eustass growled. He looked sideways at Law, the smug bastard. Lauding it over him with his perfect fucking life and perfect fucking man, and what the fuck was that on top of his feet nowadays too? Marked all over. Freaking exhibitionist.

He leaned over the pavement, almost falling, his huge fluffy jacket pushing into Law's space. He had to be hot. His pale fingers gripped the bridge of Law's foot.

"Pretty."

"Don't touch." Law snarled, shook his foot away from Kid's grasp. He didn't think much more of it. People always felt tattoos were an invitation, why would the redhead be different? Especially as Law's scowl usually had zero effect on him.

Kid frowned, pulled his hand back, put it behind him and stood up, shakily at first, but then with more determination. He'd been drinking since the early afternoon, and it was now mid-evening. Law wasn't really paying attention, looking off to the side, figuring Kid was going to bluster, complain and then head to the ship. The redhead swayed, bent down and then grabbed the front of the heart-embroidered shirt.

Law looked up, startled, and started to make a room, a quick protest leaving him. Something was off about Kid. They had their differences, but usually kept it their form of civil. Law had done worse to ruffle his feathers in the past and had less reaction. Before the dome fully formed though, Law's energy dropped suddenly and the room fizzled. He felt the click, more than heard it. Just one shackle, but ever since he'd been chipped, his reaction to seastone was extreme. Having it in his bloodstream for two years had left his immune system susceptible to the lightest touch. His resistance shut down almost immediately. He felt himself go off the grid. Nausea swept through him. He was in trouble.

"Eustass-ya?" he looked down at his hand and then up, bewildered. Wondered why the Kids pirate had put a seastone cuff on his hand. Why he was holding him up by his shirt front. Law was affectionate with those he loved and trusted. Very much less so with those he didn't or didn't know. This was invading his personal space to an alarming degree.

Keep breathing, _keep breathing_ , he told himself. Kairoseki brought nightmares swarming for any devil fruit user who'd ever been arrested by bounty hunters or the marines. Anyone imprisoned and used by Doflamingo. By anyone.

Though Law was tall, Kid was so much taller. He pulled Law up by his clothes, grabbed his shoulder, and then practically dragged him by one arm around the corner to a side street, Law tripping over his feet, almost losing his footwear. Not good.

"The fuck, Eustass?" the doctor kicked out. Now it was his turn to ask. Eustass had always had an eye on him. Always. But Law thought he understood he was with someone. Respected that. Shackles were never a good thing. He'd been tempering his drinks, but his head wasn't clear. Fuck.

Eustass, dodging the kicks easily, pushed Law's back up against a wall, the back of a building lining the road, the road a dead-end. He pushed up his shirt and tugged his cargo pants down slightly, reminiscent of that bastard, Akainu. His large hand and that fucking metal claw were flat or against his hip bones, searching for something.

Law had heard that Eustass liked things rough – maybe from the man himself? – but he blurred the boundary lines on consent, obviously. Whichever way, Law didn't want his hands all over him, or that metal scraping his skin.

"Where's the fucking brand, Law? We all know you've got it."

Anger and despair filled Law. Not this again. Especially not today. His head sank back against the wall in realisation and he swallowed hard. He twisted, but he couldn't get away from Eustass' grip.

"What's it matter to you?" he hissed. Trying to push Eustass' hands away. Today was survival day. A celebration of survival, though he wasn't sure if it was his idea. Even so, he was meant to be free of this shit. And here was this pirate acting like the worse kind of marine.

"We all know what you are." Eustass was whispering near his ear now, pushing his hand into his chest so he remained pinned against the wall. Law's blood ran cold. He felt Kid's tongue dip around the cartilage. He jerked his head away. "That fact doesn't change with age."

The redhead pulled him away from the wall easily, his slighter body lurching forward and then back as Kid gained the momentum to fling Law further down the alley, knocking him onto the ground, before he could gain any sense of balance. Law's head collided with the asphalt. Dirty, grimy. He tried to sit up, to get away, but Kid strode over and kicked him in the ribs. More than once. He doubled up, coughing. Tried to raise his pants from where Kid had lowered them. His limbs would not co-ordinate. So many things to do, so little time, so difficult to think clearly. So weak.

"Eustass, what the fuck are you doing?" But Law knew.

Kid pushed him back to the road and straddled him, like Doflamingo used to when he caught him, prevented him from backing away further up the dead-end. Panic encroached. He hadn't been in this situation for a long while. It was difficult to fight off feelings of helplessness. How could Eustass do this so close to his business, to his home, to Marco, to his friends, to him? At all? He hadn't thought he'd abuse their hospitality. He'd thought Eustass had mastered his urges – at least in relation to him. Seastone?

"I want what everyone else gets for free, Law." He said the last breathily, too reminiscent of Doffy. He began unbuttoning Law's shirt. Ran his hand up and under the cloth, running over Law's ribs. Those smooth, tight pectorals, those muscular abs. "I want in."

"What? Who? Who gets fucking what for free?" Law tried to slap Eustass' hand away, but Kid grabbed his wrists with the metal arm, easy with the cuff, and put Law's arms above his head, pushing them to the road surface. Growing frustrated with the buttons, he pulled a small dagger from his pocket with his working hand, and used the blade to pop them off.

The metal of Kid's arm hurt against the skin of Law's pinned arms. Kid laughed as the lovely face in front of him darkened and that whore dared to bare his teeth. Law was angry and so _not_ accepting of what he had coming. Kid smiled, the black lipstick macabre. He loved a challenge. Loved them feisty. He retracted the dagger, put it well out of harm's way. He'd seen the way Law's eyes had followed it.

"I saw you. With Smoker. With Luffy. Even with fucking Roronoa. Anyone but Marco, I'd say. All over them. Tell me, does Smoker give good tongue? Do they keep you around 'cos you make it worth their while? After all, _what_ are you to mix with such powerful people? How could _you_ possibly have got as far as you have without putting your talents to use?"

He gripped Law's dick through his pants for a second. The dark haired pirate inhaled sharply. Unfair, thought Law, looking to the side. So fucking unfair.

He tried to ignore Eustass' hand. He spoke, his jaw tight, his whole body tense. His voice wavered, damn it.

"Eustass. They're important. They've all saved me at one time. They've helped me in my darkest hours." Like now, he thought. Maybe it was weak to admit that someone had saved him, but from Cora onwards, he had to acknowledge the role they'd played in his life, because they were instrumental in diverting his life path from pure misery, and they let him know that, even though his existence seemed overpopulated with people like Kid, there were others, there were alternatives, and damned if he was going to forget or betray those who assisted him. If he was going to become those who abused him.

Eustass was now running his hand along Law's chest. There were those tatts. Not the whore one though. Gorgeous. Oh, he'd give Law a good time, or Law would give it to him. Law owed him that. Owed anyone who wanted him. He imagined him on his knees with his lips around Smoker's cock, around his own. That mouth. The redhead let out a small groan.

Law looked up at him, incredibly wary. Done. What could he do about it? Eustass' eyes narrowed with lust and he then pulled back and punched Law in the face.

"Just in case you think of calling out."

Law grunted as he felt the gravel push into his skull again. His ears rang. No-one could really fucking hear from this corner, thought Law. The ocean too loud, the drunks too drunk. The blood rushing through his ears, deafening.

"Or aren't you calling out because you want me so badly?" Kid leant down and licked at the blood, from the lip he'd just split, just as Joker would. The metal arm still kept the defeated captain's arms pinned. "I'll show you a good time that will put the Pirate King to shame." He forced his tongue into Law's mouth, demonstrating just how fast, invasively and insistently his dick would later be owning him. The older man couldn't breathe as Kid filled him. The redhead pulled out with a jeer.

"Mmm, you taste just as good as I imagined," and he ran a thumb along Law's jaw. And Kid tasted of all the alcohol he'd drunk. Law's heart was beating like crazy. Stay calm. _Think_ , he commanded himself.

Law glared at him. As if his opinion mattered, thought Eustass. As if a slave were allowed to have an opinion. The very thought was fucking hilarious. Especially now. He must have paid those who helped him handsomely in the way he best knew how. What a scrawny excuse for a man he was. He kicked out and Kid stopped him quickly. Would he quit doing that? What a waste of energy.

"Pathetic. You're weak as a kitten with that seastone. You can't think straight. Whores can't think at all, can they Law? Are they entitled to an opinion? Say, 'No, Master.'" He squeezed Law's leg brutally before lowering it. He leant in again and gripped Law's chin. The doctor remained silent, seething. Kid moved his head from side to side.

"That's the good boy," He stroked Law's face. Your opinion is your master's opinion, right princess? I saved you too. You know it. Why don't you put out for me? Or is the only way to be with you to take you?"

Law began to tremble with the insults, cellular memory was a bitch.

"Baby's cold. The slut's scared of contact? I'd be nervous too if you knew what I've got packed downstairs. I've got a fuckload of surprise for you. Or excited, hmm?" And that smile again.

Kid had helped him, had saved him at times, and vice versa, but that didn't mean Law was attracted to him. That he had an obligation to be attracted.

"Nothing to say, huh? I hear you don't talk much in bed, but that you're good, so good," and Eustass started kneading Law's dick through his linen pants, "That's good. I hate bitches that don't know their place and I guess that tongue's usually being put to better use." He took in the glower, but the tart couldn't deny it.

"Star-fucker, consort to Do-fucking-flamingo. C'mon Law, you only became a pirate so you could pretend you weren't a whore. But you've been had from here to fucking China. You can't hide your nature. You can't beat your destiny."

"Eustass. Don't." The ground was hard beneath his head, under his arms. He was thankful that Kid hadn't ripped all of his shirt off, but he couldn't believe this was happening, and then again, it was all too familiar. His tongue was thick in his mouth from Eustass' punch, from his molestation. The sky, ever indifferent, revealed one star after another. "I'm with Marco."

"C'mon, don't play hard to get when you know you want it. Marco'll just have to share his little cunt."

He punched Law in his stomach as he let go of his hands, so the guy couldn't punch him or try to. That kairoseki was strong though, and Law didn't fight, but his breath sharpened. Kid began to ease the Heart pirate's trousers down. "He does already, after all."

"Eustass. This isn't consensual." It was hard to get air. Kid was known for his strength, and the rumours were true.

"Ooh, big words. You give it to everyone else, but not me?" He backhanded Law. "I don't get that. And when does a slave get to decide? What has someone like you got to say that could be important to me?"

Law's head rang. He drew a breath, tried to focus. Could feel blood running down his throat. This one spoke with his fists, like Vergo.

"I don't give _it_ to everyone else," Law hissed, hating that he was trying to justify himself, when he knew Kid would just take what he wanted. The redhead was too drunk. And even if he wasn't, Law recognised that unbridgeable sense of entitlement from a mile away. "I show affection to people I'm close to, and not all of them. I only sleep with Marco and only when we _both_ want to."

Eustass landed himself on Law's body. The Heart pirate's lower half fully exposed now.

"Well, you just got a whole lot closer to me. C'mon baby, when do whores get to choose? That's just wrong. That's against the natural order of things," he bit along Law's neck. Law squirmed under his touch. Hated that his own junk was now in contact with the material of Eustass' ugly-as-fuck pants. That he could feel his damp chest against his own.

"I'd like _you_ to show some of that affection to _me_. And how disrespectful to Marco, right? When you give it to anyone else when they do so much as look at you, yet you only sleep with him when you want to. Sounds like someone's a little cocktease. Someone thinks he's too good to please his man."

Law could feel Kid's breath so close. His metal hand in his hair. Eustass might not be able to feel that, but Law could.

The redhead loved to feel the other man squirm and react under him, the disdain and was it hopelessness? in his eyes. He had no right to the first. There was fear there. Good.

Law kicked, clawed and fought in whatever way he could as Kid honed in, but another click on his other hand drained away any energy he had left. "Motherfucker." His eyes blazed, but he could do nothing. It was a huge turn on for Kid. Oh, so that's what affection looked like in the Trafalgar Law handbook. He could certainly play that game.

"C'mon baby," said Eustass, kissing along his chest, down past his navel, his long arm caressing his face, and then forcing his fingers into Law's mouth. "Suck, or it's gonna be painful." Law didn't. Wouldn't. His insides had dropped. All he could feel along his body was slime and the effects of the kairoseki.

"Masochist," Eustass breathed into the claimed body. "You want it, don't you?"

Law said nothing.

"I take that as compliance."

He shot him a look that Kid couldn't see. When did the redhead learn that word? He guessed his vocabulary adjusted according to his fucked up needs. Eustass rose to his knees and Law heard him unlace his own trousers, slip them down. This hadn't happened for a long fucking time. It was hard to keep himself in the present, to try to figure ways to get away. But how could he with those cuffs and against a fruit user? He felt himself disassociate.

"You slept your way to the top, Law. How was that fair? Luffy, Smoker – those old hags – you banged them too? Don't tell me that Doflamingo _didn't_ pave the road for you by _you_ taking his dick up your arse, again and again." He moved into his prey again, positioning Law's legs around him, and squeezed his butt-cheek. "Again and again. Cocksucker." Law felt the tip of Eustass' dick against his arse hole.

He felt as if he were clawing his own throat from the inside.

Eustass dug into his pockets again, his heavy metal arm across Law's chest, and pulled out a tube of slick, and applied it to his own erection. One of them wasn't going to suffer. Law wondered briefly if Kid came to the party just waiting for this opportunity. How fucked up was that?

"We've seen the videos." He'd re-pocketed the lube and leant down, letting his hair softly fall across Law's face. "There's a black market for those home videos of his you know, and the marine footage."

Law blanched. Oh god. There was a what? He tried to keep the bile down. The pure fear to a dull roar. The shake in his voice hadn't diminished, though it didn't hide the snarl.

"He paved the fucking road with me. Broke my body and mind in every way possible. The top. I never slept my way to the top. The top fucking took from me. Raped me – just like you're doing now. Akainu, Kizaru. Believe me, you and your fucked up friends can get off on it, but it's _not_ something you want to experience."

Eustass paused for a minute and gripped Law's chin in his mighty hand. "Whores can't be raped, Law," he spat in his face, and Law turned his head as much as he could. He wiped at his face. "You have a function, and that's to be fucked. To give pleasure. Capiche?"

Eustass turned Law's head back towards him, leaned in closer, his breath rank, his weight crushing him. "And here you are, legs spread wide, best buddies with the Pirate King, exchanging kisses with the admiral. Did you crawl under his coat earlier and blow him? If you can take his cum, you can take mine. You think you're too fucking high and mighty to give your pert little arse to the working pirate? To the fucking pirates who worked hard enough to get you where you are today? You didn't sleep your way to the top because you were always the bottom, right? That's the only way that _didn't_ occur."

The curve of his working hand traced Law's cheekbone once more, then Eustass bent down and smothered the brunet's mouth again. He played with Law's nipples. Everyone knew how sensitive they were. Oh, there were many back room discussions about just exactly what you could do to Law if your paths crossed, what he could do for you. Filthy. Kidd all but shivered with excitement and he was satisfied as Law's back arched. Kid laughed into Law's mouth. He made sure his metal arm made contact with skin. He knew how heavy that thing was.

How did that work? Law thought. Eustass' words? The man was a captain. Working pirate? He tried to ignore his body's reactions. Eustass pulled his lips and then hand away after trying to get past Law's fucking teeth again. His fingers practically crushed Law's cheek bones and skull. The dark haired man took in a needed breath. Everything was closing in around him.

"Where were you at Punk Hazard, Eustass? Dressrosa? After Dressrosa? I never saw you approach Shanks' ship. How and when did you support me?" His voice shuddered.

"Another fuckbuddy," Kid snarled. "Shanks, right? Who do you have to be or what do you have to do to get an audience with Shanks?"

"What makes you think I had anything handed to me?" His fingers dug into the hard road below him. The metal of those bands around his wrists scraped against the road.

"C'mon, Law. You were, _are_ a sex slave." He kneaded Law's butt cheeks again and spread his legs wider around him. Loved the sound of frustration escaping from the Heart Captain. The tremors he could feel in Law's abdomen. He let out his own moan of appreciation. "They must have shared your pretty little hole around no matter where you were." Kid's hand brushed over it, and Law's body flinched. "You were trained for it. Made for it. It's second nature," his voice growing thick with his desire. The change in tone nauseated the dark-haired man

"The cook, on the Strawhat's crew, how is he? When Benn gets angry with Shanks does he come knocking on your door? Though he wouldn't need to knock, right? Because he can, right? Take you whenever. That must be part of your agreement. No-one would take in a whore and expect nothing in return.

"I bet you've seen the tops of all the tables on that ship. And that everyone's seen you being topped on top of those tables. You'd get off on anyone slamming into you without mercy, right? Shameless. All of your fancy books tumbling to the floor. What good is learning when it goes against your true nature, Law?"

The light from the one streetlamp some way down the road partially dappled Law's face. Kid didn't think he'd ever seen the surgeon so raw.

"Beckman takes you in front of Shanks when he's angry. That's how it works, doesn't it? Beckons and you fall. Mouth open for red-hair. You're trained. It's second nature. You owe it to them. Who could keep their hands off you, and why should they? And you can't help yourself, can you, sweetheart?"

Law's hair was so soft.

"I can't wait to share you with Killer. Can't wait to see him mouthfuck you while I take you from behind."

Kid could see that Law had accepted his fate. His words having an impact. Good. Let him know his place. He could see Law didn't like it, but he would, and truth be told, he'd been told how sweet it was to hear Law beg. Silent and begging. Either way worked for him. Kid got a kick out of him hating every minute of submission. "Government dog. You'll sing for me."

Kid's red hair, sneering face leered in at him, and then he moved against his arse. Law put a hand over his eyes. Eustass removed it of course.

"I'm going in dry, y'know." He felt the Heart pirate tense beneath him, and then he lifted Law's hips more fully towards him. Kid was fully erect. "You, that is. Brace for it, babe. I want to see those faces they say you pull on that girly-motherfucking mug of yours. Irresistible." Again, his hands were all over him. Law was paralysed, but tried to breath, to make things easier for his own self. Kid's body against his own was as appealing as having the suction pads of a wet rubber bathmat pressing into his skin, inclusive of all the mould, scum and grime.

"You're so sexy Law. Mr. Shichibukai. Who wouldn't look at you and not want to fuck you? And those tatts. Don't tell me you got them just to hide them away."

For Cora-san, thought Law, and to hide Doflamingo's torture. He said nothing, gave nothing away other than the rise and fall of his Adam's apple. He wore the plainest clothes possible without being a freaking monk. What the fuck did they want him to do? Their logic was he breathed so he should be and should asked to be fucked. He curled his lip. The pain was apparent. Kid liked it. Law could see it in the smile crossing the Kid pirate's face, but he calmed himself and relaxed into it, as he'd learned. Yielding for minimisation of harm.

Eustass' eyes lifted in surprise. "You're ravenous, aren't you Law? Softening up now. Looking forward to it, right? You're asking for this. I saw you. I saw it. All over Smoker in front of Tashigi. Practically tonguing Luffy in front of Zoro, and all of it in front of your man. He must be whipped, Marco. What are we meant to think? You'll put out for anyone, and you're hot for all?

"And this," Kid's hips moved slightly, his length also moving incrementally, Law inhaled, "Now, is for humiliating the Phoenix, Tashigi, Zoro and any other poor fucking bastard out there who's either got blue balls because of you or who you've got wrapped around your manipulative shit of a finger. He's a good man, Marco. He deserves better. Whitebeard was a legend."

He moved again. Law wished he'd shut up. But at least if he was yapping, he wasn't screwing him, but one didn't necessarily negate the other.

"You can't get away with being such a cocktease, Trafalgar. You need to pay for that. You were made for this. You're filth trained up for it. So fucking take it, and make it good for me. Be an obedient pet, just like Papa Flamingo taught you."

Law had the back of his arm across his mouth to stop himself from crying out, to stop himself from crying. A slut, that's what he fucking was. Kid positioned himself further.

"Relax, baby. You know it will be easier."

And Law knew, from experience, he knew it would be. He tried to relax further, slightly, so he wouldn't be torn apart. He could offer to prepare himself. He'd done it before, but he couldn't give Kid that satisfaction. Hopefully this wasn't about long term survival. It would mean just bearing this man getting his rocks off and coping with the fallout from that.

His cry was sudden and loud as Kid entered him. Kid heard it filled with pain that wasn't purely physical, though he knew it hurt plenty enough. It made his cock swell further. Law's arm didn't muffle his yell at all. Jesus. Marco and he had an active sex life, and they shared, topping and tailing – they'd worked through it – a really delicate process for Law. He wondered if it was all screwed now. The Heart captain put his free hand over his eyes again so he wouldn't see Kid on his knees, his own hips raised, his legs crossed around Eustass, to stop himself from sliding all over the fucking road, and that red-haired demon gradually getting deeper inside him, and pushing him along the road surface regardless. The fucking marines. All these surfaces they cushioned themselves from with him. Him. This thing they used. This piece of meat.

He was a doctor in this town. If his patients saw him now. He heard his own breath, own sounds reacting to the motion, his body totally controlled by another. Not enticement. They weren't sounds of enticement. Kid wouldn't see it that way.

"Oh, they were right. Look at your face, you little bitch, it's perfect. Eustass Kid's darlin' little scrubber. His hungry little pet. His submissive whore. Keep making those noises, baby. Can't wait to hear you repeat that, for you to tell the world just what you are, who you belong to."

He leant down, removed the arm covering Law's mouth, Law's body lowering slightly, and kissed him on the lips.

"Though I'm surprised that this isn't doing its job." He spoke into Law's mouth, picked up his flaccid dick. "What's wrong, Law? Age's affected performance?"

Law was glad his body wasn't reacting. Yet.

"We'll have to do something about that." And he rearranged himself and started rocking into Law faster and harder. Law hearing Kid's god damn fucking body beat against his, his dick moving inside of him. Unwanted. Excruciating. He couldn't stop from shouting out in pain. He had no need to stop himself, of course, except that Eustass got off on it.

"Whose goddamned bitch are you, Law?" Kid stared down at him. Law grimaced. He'd spit at him if he could. He'd have grazes on the back of his neck. On the back of his arm, on the tips of his fingers, where he'd tried to brace himself against the road, rather than hold onto this excuse of a human being.

Then, he heard the footsteps. Could feel the haki. Oh motherfucker and thank god. He thought. Don't let Marco find me like this, let Marco find me like this. He dropped the hand covering his eyes.

Zoro had one of his swords against Eustass' neck. The redhead stopped after one, two, three very hard, very fast thrusts. Oh, he was so tempted to keep going, damn the fucking consequences. Take what was his right. Fuck this whelp in front of an audience. Law dared to call himself a pirate? How could he be when he felt so good and right around his dick? When he so easily let himself get fucked?

He was tempted to slap that pert little globe of an arse cheek. Law's legs were still wrapped around him, his lower body elevated.

The green-haired man looked down at Law's frightened yet impassive, resigned? face. Ashamed face. Furious face. He had an arm back across his mouth and it was shaking. Their eyes caught, and Zoro saw Law's expression sink deeper when he realised it was him. Fuck. Was it the marines all over again? A queue of these arsewipes just waiting to use him? No. Zoro shook his head slightly without wavering the pressure on Eustass. No, that was in the past. He wouldn't hurt the doctor.

He noticed the cuffs on Law's wrists, and he leaned near and used his longer sword to cut through them. They clattered to the road.

The relief was almost immediate. Law sat up, put his feet on the ground. If that hurt Eustass, he didn't care. If it broke his dick, he didn't care. Shaking still. His whole body. Eustass was still inside of him. Thank god he hadn't come yet. Law knew he'd cope with it if it happened, but wasn't sure how he'd cope with it. It made him feel less dirty that nothing would be running down his leg when he stood. Blood perhaps. Law could feel Eustass deflating.

He drew an arm back and his fist, packed with all his fury, connected soundly with that fucking arrogant face. Not an easy task with the way they were entangled. The red head's neck flew back, a satisfying crack resounding.

"Get the fuck out of me. Your hands off me." Law's words were laced with anger, indignation.

Zoro kept the sword to Eustass' neck and also nodded to show that Kid better do what Law wanted and what was only right. In the meantime, Law used shambles to retrieve his nodachi from the bar, some patrons surprised by the sudden appearance of a trash can lid. Marco looking up with concern.

She landed near Zoro with a clatter. Eustass' eyes widened slightly. The redhead pulled out with a sickening sound, and it was obvious he'd have to take care of himself some other way as he was still fucking semi-erect. Pig.

Law scrambled back and away over the road, bits of gravel grazing the skin of his buttocks and the backs of his thighs, then stood up while Eustass was still half naked. So was Law, of course. So much for dignity. He picked up Kikoku before all else, and thought he should cut Kid's fucking dick off and stuff it in his mouth, all without the benefit of _room_. His hands were too unstable, though, and he could feel her anger zinging at such an intensity, he wasn't sure that she wouldn't turn on Zoro. He just wanted to get the fuck away, but he'd use her if he had to, even in this barely dressed state.

Adrenaline allowed him to locate and pull on his own briefs and trousers, while ignoring the pain and embarrassment. It wasn't his ideal to parade half naked in front of Roronoa-ya. His face was black with rage. He had to fetch his clothes from where Eustass had thrown them. He couldn't button up his shirt, but he pulled it to him, clutching Kikoku under his arm. Zoro kept his eye trained on Kid.

"Let Marco know," Law said once dressed. The green-haired man was impressed with the controlled anger but caught sight of the anguish flitting over his face too. And he could not control the shake in both his hands now. Zoro nodded, but wasn't sure if the doctor saw. Law then teleported himself well away from there to the house he shared with his lover.

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 **A/N: Sorry, Law. I usually try** to put up two chapters when one of the chapter is full-on, so a more comforting chapter will follow this one very soon. This story does have a happy ending, btw! Zoro redeems himself in this chapter, so that's something.

 **Toasterino:** Thank you for commenting. It means a lot. It's nice to hear from you. Now you know why the last note was so ominous. I did want to let Law have a week of happiness before posting, but I've got to get this story out of the way so I can get on with other stuff. Hence such quick updates, I guess. It's mostly done, and is a matter of editing each chapter.


	23. Ch 23 - We are all of us in the gutter

**A/N: Mature content**

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 **Chapter 23: We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars**

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He'd landed on the balcony, overlooking the ocean and exposed to the stars. He sat, as he had on the Sunny so many years ago, with his head down, and he could almost feel the bandages from all those times he'd survived battle. He tried to hear the steady lap of waves on the shore, some distance from the house, over his still irregular breath. He tried to figure out what had just happened, had he let it happen, and was it his fault? His whole body was a mess.

He'd learned long ago that this guessing game only hurt him deeper and more. And that thinking too much drew him into a vortex, inescapable. But he sat there for a good while before suddenly pounding the wooden floorboards below him a number of times with a clenched fist, with the less grazed hand. _Fuck, fuck, fuck_. With the one that had been over his eyes. And why was that? Why was the other more grazed? Because Eustass had removed that arm from over Law's mouth, and Law could still feel the redhead's tongue probing like a fucking leech growing fat on his blood, his own fingers gripping the road for traction, for resistance - out of sheer fucking revulsion. And why had _that_ happened? All of it? Because he let it. _No_. He must have let it.

He stood. Felt in his pocket for his keyring. His hands fumbled, it took a few tries to fit the key into the slot, and he had to rest his head against the glass of the sliding doors to stop himself from breaking down as he dropped the bunch of them. How useless was he? Couldn't even manage to hold onto something as simple as keys. No wonder this shit kept happening to him.

Once inside, He forced himself to keep moving now that he was up. He turned on the lights, grabbed a drink, grabbed some cigarettes, and went to his easel. Don't smash the glass. Don't smash the mirror. Don't punch the walls. In the long run, it wouldn't help. _It's not your fault, it's not your fault, it's not your fault._ In which way _wasn't_ it his fault? _In all ways possible. It's the shock._ In all ways possible it **_was_** his fault. Breathe, _dammit._ Breathe.

He paced across the floorboards, his breath ragged. _If only he hadn't_ . . . No! It wasn't his . . . Wait. If Marco came home, he'd want to be clean. He wanted to be clean anyway. Would Smoker and the rest want swabs? Would he want to press charges?

His hands wouldn't stop shaking. Kikoku rattled in her sheath, not just because of his nerves. Law sighed. He knew he was too fragile for that motherfucking process. The media would have a field day with his and Kid's notoriety and his past would be dragged across every tabloid in town. Again. Shower. Kid hadn't released, thank god, but he could still feel him. Experience taught him not to ignore, but also not to linger. The sword went with him.

Kid had bruised him and torn him. His face and ribs were sore. He wondered if he should use room to heal his fucking arsehole. The prick hadn't been gentle going in nor out, but he might need the energy for something more major. At least Zoro could stop him before he'd fucked him the length of that alleyway, though Law groaned again at the image the green-haired man must have of him.

Could still feel himself standing there, half-naked, all on display, clumsily pulling his clothes on. No matter how grateful he was to the swordsman, the freshest of memories cut. How ridiculous he must have looked how pathetic. And he'd come home with one flipflop. The rubber thonging of the other broken in the tussle to get him to the alleyway. Kid had slapped him with that too. He looked over his shoulder and saw the marks on his buttocks and thighs.

And somehow Law had thought it was important to wear half of that cheap footwear home. He'd picked the flipflop up from where it had slipped when Kid had hoisted his legs and pulled his clothes off. From where he'd discarded it after use. Law had put it back on after he'd reclaimed those clothes. What freaking difference did it make? What the fuck was he thinking? As if he could pretend that he had some dignity? That something so flimsy, hardly covering his skin somehow made everything kind of normal? And Kid had used it on him. Law gripped his hair. Didn't he have any self-respect?

Half naked, a shirt that swung about him and fell off his shoulders, Kikoku awkwardly gripped under his arm, as if he didn't know how to handle a sword, and wearing one fucking flipflop. Well, he actually was technically clutching his trousers at that point too. He'd flung what remained of the ludicrous footwear off the balcony when he'd finally got home and managed to get the door open, and had to step out of it, mortified he'd made such a clown of himself. He _was_ the armament factory, endlessly providing enemies with humiliation ammunition, all bullets marked _Law._

He glanced again at the bruising, what he could see. Marks on his body would be a bad reminder for Marco, but he'd also know to be a little gentle, he hoped. Not too disgusted. Law rested his head against the shower wall, water washing over him, weak from the water, the seastone Kid had used, and the experience. Numb. A one-off. It was only a one-off, right? Only a fucking one time only, one-off fucking assault. As if that made it better. But it did. There'd be no Kid to meet in the morning. No promise of systematic torture. A one-off. Among many.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Kid was all packed away, walking painfully, trying to quell his erection. Zoro still had his swords ready. Kid might be able to take him with his devil's fruit, but Zoro's haki and skill were legendary. Plus, he was coming down from his booze buzz and shame washed over him. At his actions? At getting caught? Or just because what the fuck had he just done to Law?

He sat on the kerb again and buried his head in his hands. Zoro had used the latest Den-Den 9 to text Marco, and he soon charged around the corner. Both men could feel the anger seethe through the blond. In turn, he could feel Law's energy in the space and felt his anger and fear. It hit him like a punch to the gut, but he was thankful he was gone if he was safe. Zoro's message was succinct, but ominous.

"Where is he?" He directed the question to Zoro, his voice tight.

The green-haired man shook his head. "Just teleported away from here, and said to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"About this, I guess." Zoro ran an eye over Kid's sorry form, his jaw didn't look good, and the empty alleyway. Marco did the same, spied an abandonned flipflop, its rubber snapped, between a building wall and the road surface. He drew himself up. Where was the other one? Its wearer?

"What is this?"

Zoro sighed. What to say? He wasn't one for embellishment. "I was wandering outside. Thought I might sit by the sea for a while. I heard a yell. It didn't sound good. I came up here and found Kid on top of Law. Law didn't look happy about it. Had those on his wrists." He pointed to the broken shackles.

"Seastone?"

"Fucking slut sleeps with everyone but me," Kid mumbled.

"What!?" both men turned.

Kid shrugged. "He's a fucking sex slave. It's his job to give it up."

Man, was this guy suicidal? thought Zoro.

"It's his fucking day of celebration for surviving, and you know what he survived? Arseholes like you. And then you just waltz right in and screw everything up because he's not with you, or didn't want to sleep with you?" Marco was calm. Very calm. Zoro knew that meant danger.

"Be with him? Why would I want to be with a hooker? I only wanted to rut him. Like everyone else. Have a taste of that honey." He ran a scathing eye up and down Marco. "Guess that's why he's with an old man and took advantage of a child before. Who else could stand to be _with_ him?"

Luffy, younger by seven years, and Marco about ten older. What was wrong with Law that he didn't screw with his own age group? Apart from the bleeding obvious. No self-respecting pirate wanted such used goods.

"I gave him what he fucking begged for. Ask anyone who's had him before, which is half the fucking world, if we're being honest."

Not through any fucking choice of his own, thought Marco. Law needed to feel safe. He was about the most vanilla lover Marco had ever been with. It was a counter to all these fucking jerks that made it their life purpose to tear his well-being to shreds. And the ones like Kid didn't even know what they were destroying.

Marco provided Law with the security that he wasn't them. No way in hell did his lover ask for this. Kid's head flew back from the kick. He doubled over from the foot ploughing into his stomach. He tried to get to his feet, but couldn't move from the pavement. He snarled, but it didn't sound like much.

Marco turned to Zoro.

"Did you touch him?" He spoke quietly. Zoro sensed the fury.

"Hell no," Zoro said. "I made mistakes in the past." He stood straight, looking directly at Marco, but keeping Eustass in his sights from the corner of his eye. "Law's a damn good swordsman."

Marco's laugh was bitter, and a smile almost crossed his face, as his heart broke thinking what Law had to go through again. He appreciated it though. Zoro defining Law as he was. A damn good swordsman. A decent human being. And apparently he had been a good whore, but he'd never had any choice in that career and he'd never wanted to fix himself by it.

"Eustass is not to go back to the bar – why the fuck were they out here anyway?"

"Because your boyfriend wanted to be fucked in the arse," Eustass slurred. Zoro yanked his hair back, and Kid lifted a hand to show he was done.

"You're lucky you're alive. Get to your fucking ship and don't show your face here again."

"Ooh, big bad Marco. Hear Teach taught you a thing or two."

"Hear Kaido kept you in a dungeon and it was Law who fucking got you out," Marco hissed. Though maybe that had been the second time around, and Teach had gone the way of Kaido a long time ago

"Told ya he wanted me."

Marco wanted to beat him up, but he wanted to find Law first.

"Leave it to me. I'll text Luffy to get Killer and Heat. We'll catch up later."

Marco nodded, his face drawn and pale, changed into phoenix form and flew into the night.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

He knew that Law might be at home with the lights off. When depression overtook him, sometimes he'd just sit in the dark. He could be scared too. Not wanting to draw any attention. Furious. Might have destroyed the joint. He hated Kid for this. Hated him. How dare he? How happy Law had been. How could Kid have misinterpreted that?

Marco kept an eye out for Law today, always, and he saw his interactions. Even with staff he had a good working relationship with, he was physical. You wouldn't think it, but once you had his trust, he was truly open and expressed his gratitude tactilely. The guy's best friend was a freaking bear for fuck's sake.

He wasn't like that with strangers, though, and he definitely wasn't like it with people he didn't have a close affinity with. Maybe he was a bit more open today because it was a special day, but that still shouldn't be connected to this. To Eustass.

Law and Kid had fought at Sabaody with Luffy. He heard about it through the News Coo along with everyone else. He remembered Law talking, in passing, about how hot-headed the guy was. It was with a certain amount of wariness that Marco agreed to inviting him today, but after the Kaido rescue, both thought that Kid had accepted that Law was with someone else, and that his past was no excuse for assault. The two traded joking insults easily, and Marco knew Law thought he had an understanding with the younger pirate. Marco had thought so too. Seems not.

As he circled, he saw a light seeping through the curtains. The art room. Good. He was painting maybe. Working things out through the canvas. That really helped him. Relief washed over him that he had located him. He landed on the balcony. It was the closest to the art room. He tapped three times, then two, their special code so that Law wouldn't freak out, especially after tonight. He slid the door open and stepped into their bedroom. He toed his shoes off, stepped into a pair of slip-ons, and walked through the house.

Law was burning oils. It was relaxing, calming. Good. His lover was taking care of himself. He walked to the art room where Law was smoking, inside, a sign of stress - both the smoking and being inside while doing it - and where he was adding blacks and browns to his latest abstract.

"Law?"

Law's face was drawn and worried as he looked over at Marco. He placed his brush in water he kept to the side, and made a mental note to retrieve it soon. Always taking care of his tools. Covered the paints so they wouldn't dry out. He stubbed the cigarette out and exhaled the last puff. He stood and walked toward the blond as he came his way.

"Marco."

Marco took note of the bruised face, the swollen lips. He pulled Law into a tight hug, rested his cheek against the newly washed hair. It was still slightly wet. Law inhaled in pain. Marco loosened his grip.

"Babe." Marco was devastated.

Law put his hand up to his partner's cheek. "I'm sorry," he said, and Marco noted the new mark from the restraints, and then gently pulled Law to him as he felt – you rarely heard with Law – the cries go through his body.

"Shh," he kissed the side of his head, and softly ran his hands on his back, "Shhh. What are you sorry for? Shh." He felt the tears against his skin.

"Zoro told you?"

Marco hmmed.

"To put you through it again, Marco. I thought this kind of shit was behind us."

"I'm sorry I wasn't there." He took Law's hand. Held him close. It was always easier at the beginning where immediate comfort was the number one requisite, if Law hadn't gone off the deep end that is. "You want a drink?"

Law nodded. His body stilling. He rubbed his face furiously. Pulled away from Marco. The Whitebeard commander noted the grazing on the knuckles of either hand. The blond put his arm around him, and they walked to the kitchen. "Booze or tea?"

"Chamomile with a splash of whiskey."

"Done," Marco smiled, getting out the kettle, teapot, booze and cups. The habitual action bringing normalcy to a heinous evening. Then again, fucked up as it was, they had been through this a number of times, so both kind of knew the process. Mostly it had been with Law's memories, but when Akainu and Kizaru had landed on the ship that time, and when Law sometimes got cornered due to that fucking bounty poster the marines had put out, they had to do this dance, to a degree. Not that it was something that Marco _didn't_ want to do for Law, to make him feel safe, he just wished that they didn't _have_ to do it, that there were no reasons, and no shitheads out there who caused this kind of pain and problem.

Law could usually deal with the amateurs. His guard really must have been down for Kid to attack him.

They took their tea to the living room. Law popping back into the art space to dry off his brushes and lay them flat. They sat next to one another on the couch. Law barefoot as usual. Marco removed the slip-ons. Law drew up his legs and leaned into him. Marco put his drink on the coffee table and put his arm around Law. Law was in what counted for pyjamas. His cotton track pants and a black t-shirt. God, how good looking was this man? How lucky was he?

He noticed the marks along Law's neck where Eustass had gone in to claim him.

"He didn't come," Law said, monotone, slightly nervous, following Marco's gaze. "Zoro stopped him before he could."

Thank god for small mercies, they both thought. Not for the first time in Law's case. Would Marco think less of him if he had come, if Law had?

"How'd he get you, Law?"

Law shook a little, caught himself. "I was weak. I wasn't expecting it. I'd shambled him out of the bar because he was going to whale upon Michel, and the atmosphere had been so good. I just went out to talk to him. You know, I thought we'd trade a few insults and his crew'd take him back to the ship."

"Not weak, Law. Just trusting."

Law sipped his tea. Marco had put in more than a shot of whiskey. It wasn't wise for a pirate to be trusting. Even a retired one. But he appreciated his lover's words.

"I thought he was joking at first. You know, amorous but harmless." Law thought how that kind of rhymed, but now wasn't really the time to mention it.

"Then he put one cuff on me. He took me by surprise. My strength drained immediately – you know how it is since that chip." He turned his head slightly Marco's way, as if he could see the scar on the top of his ear from its removal. "He took advantage and dragged me to the alley. I fought as much as I could, and then I fucking fought some more, but, seastone." Law gazed at his tea. "Then he put the other one on. I was totally gone. Paralysed too. Couldn't get my brain to work."

Ah, yeah. None of them were strong with kairoseki, but the effect on Law was accelerated. What'd he do? Marco thought, Law being in that state, not able to ask. He knew you couldn't ask. But just what _the fuck_ did he do to my Law?

And Law knew it was difficult and not something you had to do, but sometimes it set things right, made the other person feel better. Law placed his own mug on the floor. He wrapped a blanket from the edge of the couch around himself and Marco, and the older man drew his knees up to the couch too, so they could sit with their legs entwined. Maybe a little too reminiscent of the positions tonight, Law thought briefly. Neither of them could hold the pose for long, but they could draw each other close, and look at each other for the time needed.

"I was frightened, Marco. More that it was happening again. You know, that it might never stop. The norm for me, right?" Law gave a small sigh, a laugh, and wanted to be talked out of it. Things had been so good. And now his body ached all over, and sitting was painful

"Abnormal for everyone, Law." He saw Law's eyes cloud over and then clear. God, cry, honey, you have all the right in the world, but he knew, instinctively and from experience, that things had to go at Law's pace.

"He was too drunk to do much. He smacked me around. I'm bruised up. He slobbered over my face a few times, tried to get me to suck his fingers, didn't go down on me or make me do that, though there were threats, went in dry." and there was a hitch in Law's voice, and a wince in the way he was sitting. Marco grimaced in empathy. "Lubed himself up though."

"It's enough. It's too much." He said, his disgust obviously levelled at Eustass, not Law. He wondered about having the lube handy, but then again. Eustass seemed to be an active guy.

He pulled Law to him. "Is it okay?" Law hmmed. Marco leant his partner back slightly, supporting his back, and he softly kissed the clavicle, the shoulder, the neck where the other marks were. He didn't mark. He didn't want Law to think he was staking a claim. They didn't mark one another.

"I value you, Law, so much." Marco's voice wavered. His pirate lover dropped his head and clenched his fists where they'd been holding onto Marco. His face was wreathed in pain. He was a slut. Did he deserve Marco's love? Did he bring it on himself? No. If he could reason against Doflamingo's words, he could reason against Kid's.

What'd he say?" Marco whispered near Law's ear, in response to the darkness that swept over him. Law jerked away a little. Eustass had been too close too recently. Those words were hard to answer. The Phoenix noticed and stilled and stilled Law by drawing him near. He leaned back against the armrest of the couch, and rearranged them so that the Heart captain was flush to him, between his legs, his back to his chest. He Draped the blanket around them again, black hair pushing against his shoulder.

Law waved his hand to indicate the usual. Kid had spouted the usual insults. Then realised that might not mean much. "Slut. Whore. Slave. Deserve it. Should give it up. Bring it on myself. Yada, yada, yada."

Marco's arms didn't leave him.

"Marco?"

"Hmm?"

It had been a long day. The Phoenix wondered if he'd be able to sleep. With Law, he would. Knowing he was asleep by his side.

"Do I flirt too much? Do I give out the wrong signals?"

"No, babe," Marco shook his head, and Law could feel it. The blond's fingers pressed into Law's skin. He wondered if Marco knew."Don't listen to Eustass. Don't listen to the man who just . . ."

"Shh." Law didn't want to hear it. But he did like Marco's endearments. He'd got used to his sentiment across the years.

"Just don't. He's always going to scapegoat whoever he fucks over to excuse his actions."

"You mean everything to me. You know that, right? Luffy, Smoker – I owe them my freedom, my second chance at life. My affection for them comes from that. There's history. I haven't hidden it." Law turned to look at his partner, before facing forward again. "But I don't cheat on you, Marco. I wouldn't. I've never even given Kid a manly slap on the back." Though he had dissuaded his advances in the past.

Marco loved feeling him against his body, his own hands wrapped around Law's chest. "I know. Don't worry about it. I loved seeing you so happy today, tonight. So happy, so grateful, so relieved, and then that fucker."

"Let's not dwell on him," Law said. Marco was a bit surprised.

"It's not like it hasn't happened before."

The Phoenix stiffened.

"That's not what I mean. I'm not dismissing my pain or how fucked up this situation is." Law was leaning forward slightly. His hands were above the blanket, and he was examining the cuts on them, his misshapen nails. "It's just I mean, all these people came, I wanted to spend time with them, maybe they're worried now, and you know, I don't think I can see them tonight."

His voice was soft. Marco looked across at his face, what he could see, and he understood. Who could interact with others after that kind of shit? He was just glad he could be there. For all the fucked up times like this, and for the times of their lives that were a daily expression of gratitude, of contentment. He was here for Law in the way Law would be for him. But because Law's history was so public, and such fucking arseholes had not left him alone, he knew his and Law's contentment was always at threat of disruption. Maybe his support role was greater, but Law gave so much in so many other ways. It wasn't as if Marco was without his own enemies, his own ghosts.

"Why should Eustass take that away from me and them? From you and me? From us and them?"

Marco tipped his head to the side. He didn't fucking know.

"Invite them for brunch tomorrow? The ones who are staying. Do you think they know?"

"Zoro texted me and I went to the alleyway."

Law cringed thinking of it. But this was business. Better that he moved forward.

I think that Luffy might know, but I warned him to be discreet. I know how shit you'd feel if everyone knew."

"Thanks," the dark-haired man murmured.

"Let me go back down."

He gripped Marco's arm a little tighter.

"Just to close up and see how everyone's doing. To stop a Luffy ambush on the house."

Law laughed quietly.

"I might send him to the Kid ship though."

A quick smile.

"Who'll cook?"

The doctor raised his hand. "Just bring back some of the salmon and eggs from the pub?"

"Can do."

"Are you sure you'll be okay with it?"

"As long as it's kept on the lowdown and I don't get pity stares and couched questions, it will be okay. I won't be able to be as on as I was today, but I'd like to see them."

"Roger. Okay, I'll go down."

Law felt like telling him that when he came back he'd reward him for his kindness and love, but he never knew how he'd feel after an assault. Fucked up that he had so many that he knew that about himself. It was never the best time for that kind of affection, anyway. For anyone, he guessed.

"Take care, Marco. Thanks."

Both stood up and either one drew the other to a gentle and warming kiss.

"I'm there for you," said Marco, twining his hands between the bruised tattooed fingers. "No matter what." He drew the hand to his lips.

Even if I get fucked up the arse by random strangers, Law thought bitterly. Though Eustass wasn't a stranger.

"Me too," said Law, the fingers of his free hand on Marco's cheek. Marco still felt the tremors. "Go get 'em tiger," the doctor said, drawing away, his eyes dipping, and wandering to the master bedroom with a book he'd picked up from the coffee table. Some medical tome he'd been reading.

"Lock up. Is Kikoku nearby?"

Law laughed, remembering how reluctant Marco had been to have her sleep near them originally. He spoke over his shoulder. "Damn straight."

"You put that agate around your wrist tonight, you hear? I'm not having her at my neck when I come in."

Law tipped his head n agreement.

"Give Zoro my thanks."

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for reading.**


	24. Chapter 24 - Early Morning

**AN** : I know many writers have had the idea of Law sewing/embroidering/making his own clothes, but I was particularly inspired by Chapter 10, _Stitches_ in _Heart_ - _Stealer_ by lastofromance on AO3. Google tells me that tea-towel isn't a word commonly used in N. America. Dish towels, I think, is more common. They're often used for royal jubilees, births and so on and are generally speaking, tacky, as in tasteless :-)

* * *

 **Warnings** : Language, some mature content.

* * *

 **Chapter 24: Early Morning**

* * *

Marco flew himself up. It was easier that way. Or faster, at least. He didn't do it too often, in the way that Law didn't teleport. Law was lazier, he did it more often, who was he kidding? But neither of them really wanted to freak the locals out. He had the perishable supplies for tomorrow, and had left instructions with their staff to bring up the rest at a reasonable hour. Also instructions to abandon if things didn't go to plan, which they might not.

Kid had a broken jaw, apparently. That wasn't his doing nor Zoro's, though he couldn't imagine that Kid's ribs were in the best state. But was from the punch that Law had hurled at him. Apparently while Kid was still in him. Marco's face curled in distaste. Good. Good luck in getting a doctor to see to that too.

Zoro had kept the event on the lowdown, and he was grateful for it. It wasn't that anyone wanted Kid to get away with what was beyond the pale, but no-one wanted to put Law through more than he already had been. Those who knew him would like to erase every last part of pain he'd felt, but then he wouldn't be the man he was with a special affinity for oddballs and hard cases like Marco.

Luffy was all for kicking some arse, and he could, but it was a delicate balance still, the new world of diplomacy, something the Pirate King was unused to. Kid had a strong crew and some influence. It had to be taken into account.

Luffy was all for charging up to the house, too, and making sure that Law was smothered with his own special brand of concern, or in making him come out and fight a drunk and outnumbered Kid, but Zoro and Marco had convinced him to let Law deal with things in his own way, and with the love and support of his current partner.

Tsuru and Kureha were miffed that Law had disappeared without a word. They were leaving the island early in the morning and didn't know when they'd get a chance to meet again. It seemed disrespectful. It wasn't every day that admirals _chose_ to speak to pirates outside of interrogation, after all.

Marco apologised on Law's behalf. He knew his partner would be mortified and angry with circumstance and himself, but they both knew he couldn't be there at this time.

"He has the highest regard for both of you, really. If he could be here, he would be." Only extenuating circumstances could have kept Law away from giving them the appropriate greetings and farewells.

"Drink too much and pass out, did he?" Tsuru laughed. "The younger generation have no staying power."

Marco wore a polite smile. "Something like that."

Kureha had taken note of the water that Law was substituting for every second drink, and she wasn't buying it. "Did something happen, Marco? You don't have to tell us what. Just tell us that he's safe, not hurt?"

He knew Kureha had seen the aftermath of Law at his worse. She remembered the young pirate, unable to walk, gripping at her clothes as she helped him across the room. "I hate it when my work gets screwed up," she grumbled.

"Spoken like a true doctor." Marco should know. His eyelids were always low, his demeanour relaxed, hiding the true power in his form. "He's safe, doctor. He'll recover. Ran into some trouble. It could have been worse, and it was bad enough, but he doesn't want the attention. I'm sure your intel will get to work, but it's not his fault he can't say goodbye. He's not incapacitated, though but not up to scrutiny right now."

The lips of both older women thinned, or thinned further.

"I'll be checking up on him," Tsuru said.

"Good."

"Hurt whoever hurt him, if you can," Kureha said lowly, sure it had something to do with people's screwed up perceptions of Law's brand. How cruel the marines had been to release that information.

Marco looked over, a little startled, gave a curt nod.

He informed Smoker and Tashigi, Luffy and Zoro of the plans for brunch in the morning. That should be enough, right? Smoker didn't ask any questions, thinking he'd save them for Luffy and his first mate.

Earlier that evening, he hadn't noticed Law's absence at first, as the pirate had been social and was helping Marco run the bar, everywhere at once and nowhere to be seen, but when he'd seen the Phoenix leave hurriedly, he noticed that Law was nowhere in sight. Then Luffy left and shortly after, the Kid crew.

Zoro and Luffy eventually came back in, but no Marco. The swordsman drew Luffy into conversation, the Strawhats' captain's face growing darker and darker. Smoker wound his fingers through Tashigi's own and hoped that Law was okay.

He was pleased for the brunch date. Law was pretty reliable, so something had happened to make him disappear. He could disappear when he was moody, that was for sure, but when he or Marco had invited guests, their mutual friends, it usually wasn't the case.

He might be a pirate, and kicked hierarchy in the teeth, but he also knew when a balance needed to be struck.

"Who's cooking?" Zoro asked.

"Law said he would."

The swordsman looked over at Marco, and Marco nodded.

"I'll text you early if something comes up." Though the Den-Den 9 did away with adopting the facial expression of the sender, it did make up for it in convenience. It also kept the writing style of the sender, but tidied up so it could be read. In the case of doctors, this was a godsend.

* * *

 **oOOo**

* * *

He put the perishables in the fridge and stepped into the bathroom with a sigh of relief at the idea of a hot, warm shower. He'd noticed bagels thawing on the counter, and he'd seen Law's form on the bed. Sleeping, he hoped.

Law would probably use the bread for them, cook a side dish for himself. The water felt so good, easing up the knots, helping him figure out how to face this again, how to help Law and himself, how _not_ to feel resentment. He knew the resentment should not be toward Law. It wasn't his fault. Of all the people to be too trusting of. Gaining the doctor's trust was usually a Herculean task. Kid somehow got it and then abused it.

Marco towelled his hair dry. He loved the house he and his partner shared. Spacey, airy, clean and bright. They both kept it comfortable, although Law's books and paints could get in the way. Marco was a messy cook, so they worked well together.

He eyed Law's clothes crumpled in a corner of the bathroom. He guessed he had just wanted to get them off and get into the shower when he got home, and was then maybe too much in shock to put them in the laundry, the bin, wherever else he might have placed them so they weren't in clear sight. He was pretty meticulous about that kind of thing. Laundry. Maybe he'd been weighing up whether to report the assault. In which case, these would be evidence.

Marco picked up the black shirt. It was one of his favourites on Law. The guy was an understated but hella sexy dresser, without trying. Everything still carried the insignia of his crew or the hearts he wore on his chest. They were great logos, so he understood the attachment, and then there was Cora.

Law embroidered those himself. Stitching up bodies, stitching up clothes - he loved watching those inked fingers pushing the needle through cloth, quick and precise. Always dangerous. Law knew all the things that could be used as a weapon in a domestic scene. Marco frowned as he noted the scrape marks on the back of the cloth, the small holes that macadamised stones had probably made. The hardened substance around them. Blood? He recalled the alleyway. He turned the shirt over and noticed it was missing all its buttons. They'd been sliced off.

Christ. He imagined that happening and then Law trying to pull it to cover himself as he got out of there. He smiled a bit, a sad thing, at the fury he knew his lover would feel. Law loved that shirt too. Why had Eustass needed to do that? But he also imagined how the fear must have swamped him, like the times it did when he had a panic attack during sex, or those damn nightmares. His hand maybe shaking clutching the shirt to him. The almost automatic shame and conditioned self-loathing. Marco felt a shot of anger, imagining Kid's hand on Law's abdomen. Not possessiveness. That's what caused Kid to act the way he did, in part, but outrage that he could be so cavalier about fucking someone up.

The linens. He picked up Law's trousers, soft and flowing. He guessed they'd been pulled down. To his knees? His ankles? Pulled off entirely? He'd been wearing flip-flops. It would have been easy enough, Marco knew from experience. The scrapes on the back of the shirt, the bite marks along his neck, indicated that he was probably on his back, and the fact that Eustass hadn't finished probably meant that's how it stayed. The trousers weren't so damaged. Would they salvage them?

He stepped into his own nightwear. Boxers and a t-shirt and then slid down the wall of the bathroom, picking up and holding Law's trousers to him from where he'd dropped them on the tiles. Could he stand to see his lover in them again, if Law could? Could he do that without imagining Eustass all over his body?

Everyone who ever disparaged Law or wanted to use him had the same limited vocabulary. He was a bitch, slut, whore, untrustworthy, without shame, asking for it, conniving, manipulative. He came onto them because of the way he dressed, looked, spoke or acted. Damn them. All this over a plain pair of black slacks? He knew it was them, never anyone's clothing, no matter what the fucktards used as an excuse.

Marco buried his face in the cloth now, and was slightly repulsed to be able to smell something that wasn't Law. Perhaps, just the road. The cigarettes of the night. Luffy, when he'd almost sat on his lap.

Law wasn't any of those words, and he never used them in love and rarely in jest, though they were sometimes spat out in anger.

He could play it up in looks for Marco, be sultry or a tease, but it had taken a lot of work for the two of them to get there. And with those who he trusted, yes. And in the past, for cold, hard, fucks that satisfied his body and left his soul aching, yes. But this was the man who usually froze if a stranger placed a hand on him.

His PTSD Mark 2 Law wasn't bland, but he needed things safe. Generally. He felt secure knowing the confines and boundaries of the sex between them, and sometimes they got their kink on, but Law preferred things straightforward, having seen too much of the other side, having been subjected to it. It's why Marco called him nana, that and the tea towels.

Out of all the fucking pirates out there with a body to flaunt, he was the only one who covered up, yet he was the slut in sexy clothing? It was the brand. It was the reputation Doflamingo made sure was smeared everywhere. It was those marines with their suggestions, and innuendo on their bounty posters, and everyone else's fragile egos. And when he was attacked, when the wrong kind of attention came his way, he either overreacted or he had a mindfuck and couldn't react at all.

Marco didn't feel whipped being with him, and neither had Luffy nor Smoker – two of the strongest people he knew. Law strengthened them in all ways. Marco put his head in his hands. How was he going to deal with this?

He never used those slurs either, seeing the pain they brought to Law's eyes. Seeing how unfair they were. They were equals in this relationship. Their respect, mutual.

The door opened a crack, and Law padded across the tiles. He wore drawstring pants, and a light faded black t-shirt. He had his nodachi. It was almost comical, with his bed-tousled hair. The slighter man stood in front of him, quizzical, worried, and then sat beside him on the floor, both hands around the sword. Trying not to hiss as he lowered himself.

"Is that your version of a plushie?" Marco smiled, and leaned into Law. His Law with his bruised face. Law lay Kikoku down and rested his head on Marco's shoulder.

His gaze took in his trousers in Marco's hands, then his eyes scouted around to the bloodied gauzes in the rubbish bin left from patching himself up - on his face, mostly, where Kid had slapped him and bit him. He'd tried to treat his back as well as he could, his grazed arm and hand, the back of his neck.

This situation was difficult for everyone involved. He hated bringing it on Marco. Kicked himself for not tidying after himself, but he'd been in shock. Still was.

"Hey, we'll ditch this stuff." He slipped his hand under Marco's elbow and alongside his inner arm to loosen his grip from the linen and to entwine his fingers in his own instead. They reminded Marco that Law was there, beside him. The trousers were just clothes.

Marco took the hand and squeezed it. "You won't press charges?"

Law laughed and that was the end of that. Who would seek justice for a pirate? Especially him? Doflamingo's consort? He leaned up and planted a gentle kiss on Marco's face.

"Shanks or someone will take care of him. Who knows, maybe I'll get an apology."

Marco loosened his fingers from Law and then put an arm around him.

"Would that be enough?" His partner was talking tough, but he knew he'd be a mess inside.

Law shook his head. "No, but it would be more than anyone else has ever given me. Other than Roronoa. That was a welcome surprise." He stared at Marco for a second.

Marco murmured into his hair. "He didn't hurt you?"

"No. I wasn't sure at first. Thought he'd come to take his turn. My blood froze then if it could freeze any more. But no. He stopped Eustass and cut off the seastone."

"He said you were a swordsman."

"Roronaoa?"

"Mmm."

Law smiled, and leaned across again to kiss Marco softly on the lips. There were more comfortable places to be. Marco looked down at the cloth again. He couldn't be there. He hadn't been able to help Law. He had been at times, but this time he couldn't be. His free hand scrunched up the cloth more.

"Please." Law stood, walked to the cabinet under the sink, grabbed a trash bag and a pair of scissors for recycling purposes. He'd get rid of it tomorrow or later in the week. Each movement stung, but he tried not to show it. He took the trousers from Marco, and placed them on the counter near the sink, and he tried to will his hand not to shake as he cut up the shirt with the missing buttons, and then his trousers. Both were salvageable, that embroidery had taken an age, but he didn't know if Marco could see them again. If he could wear them. Not those exact garments anyway.

Most of his clothing was similar. He had an inherent distrust of brightly coloured patterns, except for hearts. It was kind of therapeutic to snip through the material.

He wrapped up the debris from treating himself into a smaller bag, wrapped it in newspaper so Marco wouldn't have to see it, and walked stiffly to the kitchen to put it in the larger rubbish bin. He probably should put it outside to keep it from his lover's mind. From his mind.

When he returned, Marco was still sitting there, arms folded.

"Marco," Law crouched in front of him, put his hand again to his face. "What's wrong, and can we talk about it in bed?"

Marco was shaking, but he had to be strong for Law. He hadn't even seen the bruises that Law had to be sporting, apart from the ones along his neck. They were bad enough. The split lip. The blackened cheek. It must hurt to crouch like that. He pushed Law's shirt up, and Law stood up and stepped back. He understood. He didn't know if it was right, but he knelt and took his shirt off and watched as Marco's eyes flickered over the bruising. You had to look past the tattooes. You had to have a practiced eye, and Marco did. His eyes went lower. His hands reached out for the waistband of his pants. He could see the beginning of discolouration on Law's hips.

Law tipped his head, and stayed his lover's hands.

"Not yet, Marco. Not like this. You're hurting."

And you're not? Marco thought. But he knew Law was. Law eyed his nodachi. He knew from experience that lovers could get really possessive at times like this, needing to reassert their dominance. Marco had never been like that. Never. Luffy could sometimes be exuberantly dominant in a far too full-on way. But some, Doflamingo in particular – not that he was a lover – just had to mark him all over again if anyone had touched him without the freak's permission. Law wasn't going to allow it from Marco, hoped it wouldn't come to that.

Marco sighed. Law was right. What would he get out of it? Making Law remember and relive? He was sure he'd see all the bruising and damage enough in the next few days. He pushed himself up and took Law's hand, bent again, his hand around Kikoku, felt her angry buzz, and passed it to Law.

"Sorry, babe. Just sorry I couldn't help you."

Law squeezed his palm. If it wasn't for Marco's support right now, he didn't know where he'd be. More than a few degrees intensified on the not-all-right scale, that's for sure. "You're helping me now."

* * *

 **oOOo**

* * *

They crawled onto their respective sides of the bed, and Marco lightly wrapped his hands around Law. He didn't think he'd sleep tonight, but he could feel Law slipping away. He did that after trauma sometimes. An escape function. Strange for an insomniac plagued with nightmares, when the nightmares actually occurred, he could sleep.

"Folks are coming for brunch at 11am. We'll cancel if we have too."

Law's hands gripped Marco's arms around him. He brought a hand to his lips in response to Marco's words. "This too will pass," he murmured to his lover, so pleased that things had stopped when they had, regretful that they'd happened at all. Regret at the event, not at his own actions. He knew the expression didn't fix everything, anything, but it had always offered him relief, even when he couldn't believe it even for a moment. The idea of change being possible over time."Marco?"

"Hmm?" He wanted to hold Law so firmly, but knew he had to rest against him lightly due to the bruising.

"Thank you for today. It was the best . . . I felt so special. I won't let Kid take that away from us. Away from me." He could go into the psychology of how quick reaction negated trauma, and the quick response of Zoro and others certainly went a long way towards that. He also knew all about triggers though. He rolled to face Marco, and soon they'd separate, because who wants to sleep with a dead arm? But he cuddled into the Phoenix's chest and loved the feel of the embrace for now.

"Anything for you," Marco said fondly. Because Law asked for so little but was worth so much. "Thank you. We'll be all right."

And that's all Law needed and wanted to hear before sleeping exactly where he should be with exactly who he wanted. Even if _all right_ was one of those terms so easily said, and so difficultly defined.

* * *

 **AN** : Thank you for reading, and thank you to blueandie for the terrific reviews!


	25. Chapter 25 - Brunch: The day after

**A/N:** The honour idea came from an old SmoLaw fic I read on ff: _Chasing Shadows_ by devv.

 **Warnings** : No warnings really. Some (mild) mature content. Language.

* * *

 **Chapter 25: Brunch: The Day After**

* * *

Zoro lay next to Luffy that night, finally pleased that he'd got to prove his worth to Law, sorry that it had to be in those circumstances. He'd listened to Kid's cruel words and excuses after and knew he'd used them in the past too, but when he thought – once he got to know Luffy better – just how much Law had helped his captain on his life journey, spiritually as well as physically, and as Law had gradually unfurled his trust across the years when he and Luffy had visited, his lack of hubris at their partnership, his damn grace, he knew he loved the person, not in the way he loved Luffy, but he respected him greatly.

Was he cursed, Law? Maybe it was something only those singled out for difference would understand. His past was known and he had to fight against preconceptions at every turn. Zoro wished he'd got there earlier. He wasn't sure if the surgeon would be able to keep his gaze when they went for brunch in the morning. Zoro had felt good at seeing the relief in Law's eyes, and then devastated as he saw the horror that crept into them when he thought that Zoro was next in line. No, he didn't forget, that shitty surgeon, he really didn't. He wasn't sure if the relief ever returned. It was a compromising and humiliating position to be in, and Zoro was witness.

He wondered – if Luffy had been the one to free him, if Law would have stayed longer instead of racing away to lick his wounds and hide his disgrace. Probably. He and Law didn't have the closest relationship. Understandably. Law didn't deserve it though. What happened earlier, he didn't deserve it. To have that thug on top of him grunting away. Law's face twisted in pain, fear and shame when he saw Zoro. But also that goddamned magestic defiance that let anyone know he was slave to no fucking one, no matter what they did.

Luffy probably wouldn't have noticed the shackles, and would have just ripped Kid off, causing Law further pain. It was probably good it was him. Though maybe he was underestimating his partner. Luffy might have been able to remove the restraints if Kid could touch them.

Luffy or Marco possibly would have killed Kid at discovery. Zoro didn't know if it was a positive or not that he was still alive. Law hadn't put the word out to have him gone. Something Kid would take as attraction, whereas Zoro knew it was just part of Law's moral code. Not that the doctor was against killing. He was definitely lighter since Doflamingo was no longer on this earth. And those executives had not met friendly ends.

The tension between Law and Zoro had gradually dispersed across the years. It flared up now and then. But mostly he was struck by the graciousness of both Law and Marco, and he hated to see the doctor's special day and his happiness on that day shattered. His hard fought for well-being set back.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Everything smelt good, was going well. Law opened the wine at 10am. It was Sunday. If they'd been at a restaurant they'd probably have a drink. There was such a thing as a champagne breakfast. And he was as nervous as fuck.

Staff had brought up beverages. Marco had chilled those that needed it. One of the barkeeps, a cool chick who played guitar on their acoustic night, slipped Law some dope. He wasn't going to get wasted. He was tempering everything with water, coffee, juice and actual food. He was really pleased that only four people were coming, and that he felt close to two of them, and respected their partners.

Marco came up behind him. Law wore a full body, dark brown, restaurant apron over his clothes. It fell to mid-shin. He wore black, so it was necessary when using flour and similar items. He prepared individual quiches. The apron looked as sexy as fuck as those muscled arms rolled out the pastry, lined the pie dishes with it, basted the dough, stirred the mixture – flavoured with herbs from the garden – and poured it over the pastry. Marco nuzzled Law's neck. He loved him so much. Look at him fucking cooking pastry dishes for others. Then again, he probably used cornflour, maybe even chickpea, so he could eat too. It only made sense.

He cuddled close into him. Law smiled. It was heaven to be respected. He could get into kink, but having been subjected to too much meant he was incredibly wary. There was ecstasy in Marco's reliability. A source of relief, like a stream flowing steadily, consistently underground.

"Let me put these in the oven, then we can have a drink, a smoke, a coffee, whatever you like."

Law felt Marco nod, but he didn't let go. "How're feeling?"

Law picked up the tray the pie dishes rested on, turned and indicated to Marco that he had to move. The Phoenix dropped his arms. He blanched at the bruises on Law's face, but loved the glint in his eye.

"Nervous, but I think I'm ready. I want to do this. I don't want to live as if Kid's words mean anything."

"Oh god no, they don't," and with Law now facing him and still holding the tray, Marco pushed him back a touch into the counter and devoured his mouth, the tray between them. Law tipped his face into the kiss, but winced. His jaw hurt. Marco felt it.

"Sorry," his finger softly rested on Law's lips, "You're just so gorgeous."

Law dropped his head confused, tray still in hand. Hadn't Kid said something last night along the same lines?

"In all ways, hon. In all ways, Law. You're just so goddamn fucking tenacious. It's admirable."

Law blushed.

"Well it's true. And no-one should use your looks against you, as an excuse." He took the platter from Law, as he looked up with a querying and wounded expression, and placed it on the counter. He kissed down Law's face and neck so he didn't have to respond. Law's hands, sticky with pastry and flour, taking care not to grip Marco's clothes, sat awkwardly, perpendicular to his back, either side of his shoulder blades. The blond finished very gently on his lips. He then carried the pie dishes to the oven, placed them inside and set the heat for the time Law requested.

Returning the tray to the counter, Marco ran a sponge across the surface, tipping excess flour and raw crust into his hand and then the bin. He cleared a space and picked up Zoro and Luffy's gifts from the kitchen table. Law had left them behind the bar for safekeeping the previous evening.

"I got these this morning. Let's see in all manner of Nana-dom what you're going to subject me to now."

Law wiped his hands on his apron.

There were many kinds of boundaries Law was willing to push, and those that were sacrosanct. Taste, when it came to collections, was one of those he breached. Marco's crows' feet deepened on a regular basis as he howled at Law's latest acquisition. His lover had some peculiar pastimes – though the tea-towels and coins sure beat the jars of organs in formaldehyde that lined one part of his study. That one was a weird arse, creepy-peculiar pastime. Even so, Marco had learnt that if there was something Law liked, he didn't give a shit what anyone else thought. No surprise there, really.

He came up behind Law, hugging him once more. This normality. This recognition and knowledge that Law could pursue the most innocuous and passé of interests, though the Phoenix knew it was woven through with the Heart Captain's sense of the absurd, was exactly what Law needed. That he had as much right as everyone else to have pursuits that defined the complexity and dreariness of humanity, of himself. That there was nothing in his DNA which precluded him from being boring as fuck if he wanted to be. Slaves could and did think beyond the limitations placed on them. Or within them, unfortunately.

Not that tea towels blasted through those restrictions, but in a bizarre way, in their incongruity, in their subversion of assumptions, they did. Or maybe that's as far and as harmless as Law's taste in the provincial went.

"C'mon, Nana. Show me what you've got." He blew into Law's ear so that the brunet moved his head minutely. Marco crossed his arms in front of the both of them, his forearms lightly on Law's hips, so as not to press into any of the bruises there. He rested his head on Law's shoulder and looked over at their booty.

Law shot his lover a look. His eyes danced, lips curling. He could take this kind of teasing from his friends any day. Hell, at least he was easy to buy for. Even Zoro got it right.

"Wallah." He unfolded the swordsman's tea-towel first. It commemorated a naginata tournament Zoro had attended, as a spectator, maybe in Kuina's honour. The masked faces of the women wielding the weapons were printed onto the border of the cloth, and the kanji for the blade and the area of the tournament featured in the middle.

"It's better than the one Franky sent, that submarine surrounded by nuts and bolts."

"Oh," Law tipped his head, "I liked that one."

"You like them all."

"It had a submarine."

Marco laughed, leaned forward and kissed Law's cheek quickly.

"Brook's was cool," he said.

" _Dia de los Muertos_ , with him as the centrepiece? If anyone is qualified, it's him."

They'd framed that one, and it had pride of place in their living room.

"What's the pirate king given you?"

Bruised, grazed, tattooed, Law's fingers unrolled Luffy's gift. This commemorative tea towel actually had something to commemorate. It marked Mugiwara's claiming of the miscreant crown – Luffy's toothy face grinning from the middle of the cloth, the crown glittering, as much as it could in a non-metal material, on his head.

Tasteless, so tasteless, there was almost a corona of meat surrounding the crown – Law should love it. Images of meat also bordered the cloth, just in case there was any danger of forgetting the main object of Luffy's adoration.

Clashing in blue, if that were possible on a dish-towel already so discordant, the righthand corner sported a rendition of the button medallions that Ace used to pin on his hat, buzzy versions of tragedy and comedy. Initially their eyes were drawn to them at curiosity of the non-meat colour, because no way would that monkey child feature vegetables on his own design. Law felt Marco stiffen as they both realised what they were. He turned to him. His lover's gaze was sad, but thankful.

"No-one will ever forget, Marco." Law's fingers rested on the blond man's cheek.

Marco took the tea towel. "This is about as classy as it gets for Luffy."

"It's heartfelt."

Marco nodded. He knew. "I'm glad that Ace gets to share in his glory, even if it's on a ratty bit of cloth that you'll place in your _tansu_ , and pull out to gaze at reverently whenever your old biddy hormones kick in."

Law's laugh was always welcome.

"You're lucky Kikoku's resting." He took the cloth from Marco and held it up. It really was garish.

"We can put this _ratty bit of cloth_ next to Day of the Dead Brook. Why _not_ plaster our whole lounge room with Straw Hats?" He folded the two gifts. There was always a certain pleasure to be had in embracing vulgarity.

"Now that Luffy's the king, I'm sure they'll all be memorialised in all ways imaginable. Next you know they'll be endorsing soft drinks. We may as well pay homage too." He absent-mindedly rubbed the linen-cotton mix between his thumb and forefinger. They were good quality.

"And everyone's always implied that I haven't got a mind - or crew - of my own, and should have thrown my lot in with them years ago." He shrugged. "Our visitors will think that we've finally crossed over to the rooster's side. It'll make a lot of them very happy."

Marco leant into Law and kissed his ear, his cheek again, squeezed him just a bit tighter (just a bit). He'd actually appreciate it, seeing that symbolic remembrance of Ace on their wall. As quiet as it was, hidden amongst Luffy's proclamation. Though he did need to get something more prominent made at some point.

He'd have to see what he could do to materially show Law that he respected his memories of Cora in the same way. Maybe they could also commission some designs of the Heart, Red-Hair and Whitebeard pirates so visitors wouldn't think they'd fallen into some kind of Strawhat worshipping quicksand. Or maybe they'd think it was loyalty to the king, but maybe it was loyalty to loyalty.

Law placed the presents on a table in the living room, far from the mess in the kitchen. They might come up in conversation, so he didn't put them away just yet.

When he returned, they took the bottle of wine, pot of coffee and bag of weed to the table on the balcony, where they'd be enjoying their brunch. At the end of the road, the ocean stretched before them, raptors flew above.

Law kicked his legs up onto the table. A mistake, maybe. Pain shot through his body, but he left his legs elevated. He wouldn't sit like this with company. Or at least not until he'd had a drink or two. The full length apron fell about him, as if he were taking a break from his hammer and anvil. Marco could have easily consumed him there and then. He was just too primal. Instinctual. A paradox. Incredibly contained and at times wound up like a spring around those he didn't know.

Law wondered if Kid's ship had left the harbour.

"How long have we got?"

"They'll be here in half an hour."

The glaze in the doctor's eyes, the tilt of his head, the curve of his lips, showed that he contemplated making out, but it was too much of a risk. Instead he pulled out the papers and deftly rolled a joint to share. "Sarah said it's not too strong."

"Smoker's like a sniffer dog."

"We'll just have the one. It's medicinal," he smiled over at his lover. "I'm a doctor, I should know."

They sat, side by side, Law's hand in Marco's, quiet, contemplative, it was that kind of hit, taking an occasional sip from coffee, wine or water, until the doorbell rang. Law had packed all the paraphernalia away, though Luffy or Roronoa might want to share later.

"Go get 'em tiger," Marco whispered into Law's hair, repeating Law's words to him from the night before, as the latter stood to get the door, and the former gathered settings for the balcony. Law undid the ties at the front of the apron and lifted it over his head, leaving it crumpled on the kitchen table, on his way through the house.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Zoro hadn't expected the Heart Captain to be the one at the door. Better over and done with, thought Law. The swordsman grimaced inwardly at the bruising and split lip, but the others cried out in shock.

"You've seen worse," Law said tetchily, and ushered them in, but they weren't having any of it. Luffy was first, pulling Law to him and tipping the taller man's head down to him so he could touch their foreheads. Maybe he thought his haki was healing. He went in for a ferocious hug, but Zoro's hand warned him against it, and Law just felt himself enveloped in warmth instead – those dark eyes spiked with a sharp-edged anger. But _for_ the Heart captain, he knew, not against him. On his behalf. All that work they'd done together. Kid dared threaten it?

Law rested his fingers on the new armband Luffy had been wearing for some time now. He couldn't say it would be okay, he didn't know. But something would be done. Luffy pulled away, knowing he had to contain himself for the time being. Law was glad for it. He knew it wasn't easy for Strawhat.

Smoker was next. Cheek brushed cheek. The marine included Tashigi in the hug, and traced a soft finger along the bruising on the pirate's face. Law tipped his head away, but kept a hand on Smoker's own. The admiral wasn't sure what had happened, but he didn't want to see the younger man this way. He felt a slight tremor in the grip.

After the greeting, following directions to the balcony, the three went inside, and that left Zoro and Law on the landing.

Maybe it was the buzz from the smoke, or just how grateful Law felt, but he walked to the swordsman and also rested his forehead against the shorter man's. Zoro felt the blast of haki and released his own. The nurturing kind. Law had never shown that to him before. Law initiated the hug, mindful of his own injuries, but it was genuine and warm. More than.

Zoro hadn't prevented the rape but he'd stopped it and stopped it from getting worse. Zoro returned the embrace. Returning to captivity, being demeaned. Law hadn't known what would happen beyond getting fucked, which was bad enough. He didn't think Kid would have taken him, but with those cuffs, who knew? What was that comment about sharing him with Killer? His thoughts were scared, though he tried to make them ordered and rational.

"Thank you, Roronoa-ya, for stopping him and releasing me. You have my gratitude."

And respect, Zoro could finally feel it. What a nurturing and buoyant thing it was, and now he saw how his own blindness had prevented him from truly understanding the actual power of Law all those years ago. The older man knew honour was not a choice that all got to have. Zoro understood that now.

He had never been Law's lover in the way that Smoker and Luffy had been. Or in any way or capacity. Even so, the dark haired man brought his fine featured face to Zoro's, tipping the swordsman's head up with his long fingers, his tattooed hand, and brought their lips together in the most exquisite and heavenly kiss Law had to bestow. There was nothing sexual in it, though Zoro imagined it could lead to that. But there was a satisfying softness to it. It was the same kind of kiss Robin had received for helping Law on the Thousand Sunny so soon after his rescue, that Luffy and Smoker often received when meeting.

Zoro's eye widened. Here was the top shelf sake, the whiskey matured for years, given – by Law – to those he chose to. The Heart pirate's fingers were soft and pliant, firm and commanding on the side of his face. Giving. And the Kids, Vergos and marines of the world forced him to utilize kisses in a thousand ways demonic, and in no way nurturing, except to their own debased desires. This talent, this present from the heart, was his weapon against that. His reclaiming of identity, of his right to govern his own sexuality.

"You can bet that Doflamingo never got a taste of that," Law murmured, smiled, both hands on Zoro's cheeks, pulling away, even if that devil had introduced the original technique that he had built upon. "Nor anyone who ever used me as a whore." He softly and briefly ran his finger on Zoro's lips, stepped away and stretched his hand out behind him to the swordsman.

Zoro understood, finally, that Law would give and support those he loved in the most intrinsic way possible, more honest than bodily reactions and assumptions, and Zoro now knew that he was ready to do the same. All it required was true respect, and the first mate was ready to give it and had gained it.

He pulled Law's hand back for a second, and Law hoped he wasn't going in for seconds. It didn't work like that, and if that happened, then Law had lost his ability to convey his intention and to choose those who would not misinterpret.

He looked over his shoulder with a curious expression.

"You broke his jaw, you know, with that punch."

Law lifted his head. A small smile.

"Good." He knew there was no doctor in Kid's crew.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading**. This has pretty much turned into an AU now in setting. It pretty much was from the start anyway. **Taranis K** , thank you for the lovely comment and for marathoning through the work. It is disjointed in places, so sorry for that, but I'm very happy you're enjoying it, especially Marco and Law. **Please feel free to leave a comment. They're much appreciated.**


	26. Ch 26 - Kitchen at parties - Smoker

**A/N:** I like SmoLaw. The doujinshi always have Law as shorter than Smoker, but I think it's not the actual case. So I've tried to write it with him slightly taller. Their interaction in this one was further inspired by Devv's older fiction on ff: _Chasing Shadows_. The relationship between Smoker and Law is also heavenly (huh! That's an interesting typo, I think I'll keep it) _and_ heavily influenced by the doujinshi, _Scarred_ and _Gentleness_ , originally by Matsuki, and translated by amaitsumi on tumblr.

 **Warnings:** Not too many. Language and mature content.

* * *

 **Chapter 26: I'm Always in the Kitchen at Parties**

* * *

"Are you _Better Homes and Gardens Pirates_ or something?" Smoker laughed, exhaling smoke from his cigar, looking into the sleek modern design of the house from their seats on the balcony. The flowing curtains, the spacious, hardwood floors. Law drew back on a joint. They'd spun the medicinal argument.

"I am a doctor," Law said, all gravitas.

Marco thought that he hadn't seen their living room. Though it's true, the furniture was pretty chic, depending on your point of view. Functionality trumped style. The wall hangings were another matter.

"He's got a stick up his arse," Luffy, thumped the table, and knew it actually wasn't true, but Law liked things ordered. Law just looked over at him, picked up Marco's hand from the table and casually kissed the back of it. He passed the joint to him.

"Great food, Law, thanks," Tashigi said.

"Pleasure," Law murmured. Life was good. From desperate to good. Or maybe it was the dope speaking.

Smoker had cornered him in the kitchen while he was getting another bottle of wine. Law was genial, determined to enjoy himself, but the admiral could also feel the distance, the tender way Marco treated him, and the tender way Law treated himself when moving, standing up or sitting down.

"Who got you, Law?" he asked, as he rinsed out their glasses. The move from white wine to red. Smoker really had seen him at his worst, more than all of the three out there. Though Luffy had definitely seen him down and apparently out for the count, but in a different way. Smoker knew that it had to be serious if Law hadn't been able to farewell Kureha and Tsuru. Law looked over at him, his grey eyes darkened.

"It was over before it started," Law mumbled, but Smoker knew that wasn't quite true. Could see the haunted Law at the corner of the eyes of the stoned Law, dark smudges under them heavier.

"Are you straight enough to function?"

He tipped the glasses upside down on the sink to drain for a few seconds.

"Yes," hissed Law. "This just takes an edge off the pain. I've been balancing things out."

"Is it too difficult to have us here?"

Law shook his head. "You make me feel normal. You remind me that people can treat each other normally."

"That you can be treated normally, kid?" He reached out and put his palm against Law's face. Law leant into it, held the wrist, nodded. He was hardly a kid any more.

"Can I?"

"You should be. Marco treats you right?"

"Better than I should be."

"Nonsense."

Law nodded in agreement. True. No point in running himself down.

"Like a king. An equal king. But like a king. Like a person. It's nourishing."

Smoker smiled, dropped his hand and uncorked the bottle, and poured out two glasses.

"Good. I want to know that."

He shoved the cork back into the bottle, though he knew Law would have some fancy-schmancy stopper somewhere nearby.

"I'm sorry I was so rough with you." He bit down on an unlit cigar and focused his attention on his wine.

"You weren't always. You didn't reject me when you knew about Doflamingo."

"Ah," Smoker ran his hands through his own hair, "I loved you more then, Law. Once I knew. I wish I could have stopped him."

Law hesitated for a second at Smoker's words. He'd been reaching for one of the glasses. Smoker had the other in his hand. A shy smile. A smile that hoped and dared not hope crossed his face. A smile which showed how much it meant to him that this craggy, tough marine valued him. A smile that maybe only Cora-san had seen, or not seen. Law keeping it to himself after the tall, bumbling man, his father figure, had told him he loved him, when he was a kid with no-one to love him. He had no choice but to keep it to himself, pushed into an empty treasure chest for his own safety. Cora was dead soon after. Shot by Doflamingo.

"You loved me?"

Smoker gave Law a hard side glance. He nodded sharply.

"I worried about you all the time. Stupid pirate."

Law blushed and turned away. This came about ten years too late. He drew a breath.

"You gave me shelter and you didn't ask for anything. It was too dangerous to love anyone then, Smoker. Especially a marine. Luffy taught me I could be loved. That I could love."

He stood next to the older man and stroked his hand. It wasn't a come-on.

"We _were_ so rough, but you started the path. Smoker. At least in my adult life." He thought of Penguin, their younger love. "If I could have been with you then, I would have been." He quickly held the other's gaze before picking up the wine and taking a sip.

Smoker ran his eye over Law's body, and could still see the faint scars from the strings. Law knew what Smoker was doing. He especially eyed around the neck area. Doflamingo's strings would land and force Law to do whatever that sick fuck wanted him to.

The neck ones promised loss of life, turned Joker on if he used them through sex. He didn't reserve them only for sex. Smoker had questioned Law about them when they were together, the marks. Law had given a one-word answer. His fucking master's name. His hand fluttered to his neck now.

"He was a powerful man, Smoker-ya. He had the government in his pocket. You got me away from him ultimately. Be proud of that." His arm pushed up against Smoker's as they reached for glasses for the others, the white haired man paused.

"And this?" He indicated Law's face, glasses forgotten. "I saw how you were walking." He noticed the tremor. Law's eyes flicked up and then down.

"Kid."

"Eustass Kid?"

Law nodded.

"How'd that klutz get you?" Doflamingo was one thing, but Law could outwit Kid in an instant.

Law shrugged, his eyes dark. "I trusted him. He had cuffs."

"Seastone? You had a tryst or something?"

Law looked up, shocked, but not really shocked.

"You know I love Marco."

Smoker blinked his acknowledgement. The pirate was anything but disloyal to those he loved.

"He was rowdy. I used my powers to get him out of the pub. I went out to speak to him. I thought we'd just trade some insults and he'd be on his way, but he wanted his piece of me."

"How far?" Smoker picked up his glass and took a long drink of his wine, and poured some more. Both men eyed the spare glasses. They were meant to bring the booze to the table.

"Does it matter?"

"Just lets me gauge how much I should hate him."

"A lot," Law blinked. Paused. Elaborated. "Penetration. But Zoro-ya stopped him before he came. He was in me though." Grimaced. "No oral sex other than fingers in my mouth, sloppy kisses. Physical assault. Verbal assault. Ribs, stomach, face. He took me dry cos' I wouldn't suck his fingers."

Law shook his head. That hadn't been a great plan, but his psyche was stronger for it. And as if that shithead's fingers would have been any more gentle. The way he recited his injuries was like ticking all applicable boxes on a survey. He'd been through this before with Smoker. He'd be unable to relay what happened to most others.

Smoker inhaled. "Okay, he's in my sights."

Law frowned. "It was child's play compared to everything that happened while you guys had me, compared to my childhood, that captivity."

"But it brought it all back."

Law nodded. Like a freaking steam train.

"And for that, I hate him. And for thinking he . . ."

Law looked up. The shy smile from before replaced with a thin lipped one. His eyes, fragmented.

"He claimed I gained my notoriety and infamy from sleeping my way to the top – You, Luffy. I'm sure he would have viewed Akainu and Kizaru in favourable light. He couldn't see, therefore, why I wouldn't want another notch on my belt, why I wouldn't bend over for him. His words. Not mine." He turned his face to the side and expelled a long breath of disgust.

Smoker growled. Law knew it wasn't at him. "You saved him from Kaidou, right?"

Law nodded. "Luffy too." Kaidou had taken a lot longer to take down than anticipated.

"But you were instrumental."

Law nodded again. He'd taken some hits as well for Kid. Shanks and Luffy had joined forces for that one, and Law had been part of the attack.

"Fucking ingrate."

That's about what Law felt. Though he also knew what being imprisoned by a beast could do to you.

"You guys invited him yesterday?"

"He was in the area so we didn't see why not."

"You though, right? Not Marco."

Law shrivelled a little inside. Yes, he had invited him into his workplace, the island on which he and Marco lived. Their refuge.

"I don't think I led him on. I don't think it's enough to warrant . . ." he spoke quietly.

Smoker put his hand on the younger man's arm. "It's not. What is enough to warrant rape, Law?" And he tipped his face to him.

A brand. A reputation. A wanted bounty. Marine propaganda.

"He wouldn't last a day at Impel Down. Well, not where I plan to put him, anyway."

Law smirked briefly, though he actually wouldn't wish that on Kid. Once. Twice. A lesson, yes. But nothing as demoralisng and incessant as he'd gone through. Once could ruin your whole life. He'd spoken to other survivors. Could pick them out, really.

"Maybe the weak don't get to choose, Law. But you're far from weak. The strong can also fall prey to circumstance. If he wants to fanboy with the powerful, maybe we can arrange it."

Law dipped his head again and finally picked up half of the glasses and the bottle of wine.

"Thanks, Smoker. I know it sounds fucked, but I don't want him to go through what I did, to that extreme, you know? I mean, if he runs off at the mouth about how he fucked Trafalgar Law there'll be enough lowlifes out there who might get a kick out of it, and elevate him to some kind of fucked-up figure head, and who knows, maybe once again that's all I'll be remembered for, all any random stranger will want from me."

Law tucked the wine into the crook of his arm, and rubbed his eyes with his now spare hand. He was tired, but his voice was surprisingly level, accepting, though annoyed.

"But fear of the Pirate King, the Whitebeards, Shanks' Crew, you guys will keep his mouth closed for him, I hope. And even with his discretion, he won't have a friend among those crews, those people. He could have. I've always admired elements of Kid's verve. He could have had."

"You're right. I understand not wanting the publicity of an arrest. I can respect that."

"They'll just drag my name through the mud, Smoker." Not to mention his fear of courts, police stations and most things to do with institutions. He adjusted his arm to accommodate the alcohol.

"We won't make his life easy, though."

Law nodded. He wouldn't expect anything less.

"Let's take these outside, Admiral," Law said. "Thank you for always having my back, but they must be getting thirsty out there."

"It was your special day yesterday, Law." How hard he was trying, Smoker thought. And more so, back ramrod straight, he was succeeding. Even so, he enveloped Law, the pirate's hands full, and placed a kiss on his temple. Law pulled away after a beat. Not from annoyance.

"It was special, Smoker. I won't let him take it away from me." His gaze, soft . "Now, let's go."

Smoker smiled. He had a point. Picked up his own wine and Law's. Followed him to the balcony.

* * *

 **A/N: Thanks for reading. A quiet chapter.** About four or five more chapters before it ends. Kid does get some comeuppance - but I understand the sameness of the fic. Even so, thanks for sticking with it. **Trannis,** thank you for your comment. Yes, some resolution for Zoro and Law has been reached. I'm glad you liked that.

This fic will probably end quietly. I hope it's not too much of a disappointment :-D This is a very popular fic with readers from France, BTW!


	27. Chapter 27 - Nightmares, Law, Marco

**A/N:** **WARNINGS: Trigger warnings** from **between** the second break to the third. That is, second **XXXX** to third **XXXX**. Skip that section if you feel it will affect you. It contains remembered past sexual assault, non-con, poss. underage (teen). Otherwise, language, mature content in other paragraphs. Also, talking, lots of talking in the chapter. Skip if you're done with the talking ;-)

* * *

 **Chapter 27: Nightmares – Law/Marco**

There were nightmares, of course. Not the first night, but the second. After Luffy and the rest had left, they'd cleaned up and gone to bed, buzzed and satisfied with the day. They always folded into each other before separating for sleep. Sometimes they dozed off this way. This physical reinforcement of what they meant to one another was important. Marco brushed Law's black hair from near his ear, the golden earrings tangible under his hands. He kissed his lover's brow, his lips, the last returned, before Law turned, his back to him, and Marco wrapped his arms around him. He kissed the nape of Law's neck as they spooned. Both fell asleep quickly, but not solidly, in Law's case, and Marco was on alert for his partner.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

2 a.m., a weak, scared mewling and Law's hand curled unsure against Marco's chest. He'd turned to him in the night, actually moved down the mattress somewhat so his spiky hair brushed Marco's chin. The Phoenix knew the position of the hand and the body indicated its owner was frightened of the consequences of pushing him away, that he was dreaming of someone larger than him, a lot larger. The tentativeness. Dreaming Law was not sure of what was happening, why it was happening, but it wasn't good. Or maybe he knew all too well.

All clues so Marco knew his partner was tender and young in the dream, and not in full control of his fruit abilities yet, so less likely to reach for Kikoku, unlike his snarling, older dream counterpart. Though it was safer for Marco in this situation, his heart dropped at how defenceless Law had been, had felt. The blind confusion. The loss of control. The lack of choice. He stretched an arm out, not jostling the doctor too much, and switched on the side lamp.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

 _He'd done something wrong._ He was always doing something wrong. Or no, was this a reward? They told him to be grateful. He never felt grateful. He should be grateful. It didn't feel like a reward. What had he done wrong? There were always punches and bruises, especially if Vergo was involved, but then Doflamingo held him and was tender. He should be grateful for that. Doflamingo cared, he'd kiss the bruises better. But he'd shot Cora. He was grateful that it hurt less than when they used him. Beat him. Other kids didn't go through this, but they were good. Not like him. He didn't know how to be. He'd brought Cora to his death. Other children weren't slaves. Only he was a slave. Even if not born into it, Law's life had brought him here.

His hands were wrapped in Doflamingo's strings and tied behind his back. He was naked. Doflamingo had shot Luke earlier. That was Law's fault. He remembered the blood on the deck. Cleaning it up. Being forced to whip Luke's vulnerable back. His own face sported bruises. Now Doflamingo had a handful of Law's hair and the teenager was in front of the older man's legs, and the feathered bastard was relentless, pushing himself in and out of Law's mouth, ordering him to look up, getting off on the pure misery in the reflection. The crushed and smattered gaze his subordinate couldn't keep; citric and cobweb-torn. His ears already pierced. Already part of a pirate crew. So deep in the path of no good it was second nature. The epitome of no good. Except when he yielded. When he pleased his master.

"Not much of a slave, are you Law? Smile and thank me, no matter what I give you. Especially for what I give you. It's a privilege, understand?" Vergo hit him across the back with that staff. His mouth would have slipped off Doflamingo if the guy wasn't gripping his hair so tightly. He felt his shaft hit the back of his throat.

"Make your eyes, smile, Law, even if your mouth can't." Doflamingo grinned, and canted back and in further. "Open up wider. Like I taught you." Law hollowed his cheeks. "Beautiful. You're coming along beautifully. Your little friend died for you today, you know, because you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. Your repentance is here. How does it feel, Law? On your knees there? Luke wouldn't have died if he hadn't known you, right? If you could have kept your hands off him. If you only stuck to what you were made for. You're branded for a reason."

Law couldn't make bedroom eyes. Was he going to cry? No, fuck. Don't give the cunt that power. But he did die for him. Poor Luke. So young. Untouched. His fate sealed the minute Law looked at him. He felt Doflamingo's huge thumb beside his eye, as he tried his best to satisfy Doffy without choking himself. Without Doffy choking him.

"Tears?" Then the young master's grip got tighter still, if possible, and not only did he ram Law's mouth onto his erection he jerked upwards, insistently, again and again. If Law's hands had been free, they would have been flailing, and then the huge man came bellowing his name, and Law thought he was surely going to black out. He felt the semen run down his throat, and pool at the sides of his mouth. Doflamingo pulled out. Slowly. He didn't want to hurt his dick. Law hung his head, and tried his best to swallow, as he'd been taught. Choking, crying. His breath tight in his chest.

His face was pale, streaked with red, as he leaned forward to clean off Doflamingo. As he'd been taught. He was shaking. Doflamingo ran his hands up and down his body. His foot playing with Law's dick. Bellamy and the others, they loved this man and were jealous of him. He'd swap positions with them any day.

"So hungry, little bird. What do you love? More than anything else?" A hand in his hair again. Those fingers huge against his scalp. Could pull out clumps with the curl of a digit.

Law couldn't say it. Not so soon after Luke's death. Doflamingo dropped his foot and picked up his underling easily, a hand around his neck, another cupping his buttocks, snarled at his face, Vergo thumping that bamboo into his hand behind him. Law tried to keep his expression impassive, but he knew his fear was apparent. "Whores don't get to choose, Law. If you were a good person, this wouldn't be happening. _Now_ , What are you hungry for, bitch, what do you want, more than anything else? What should you _not_ forget to give thanks for?"

Fucked if he knew. The only right answer to those questions was to beg for more abuse.

Law had never been innocent for as long as Doffy had known him, but he was still young, still weak, and he had to learn. The young master dropped him to the ground again, and pushed his head to his crotch, and Law licked and cleaned with fervour, his hands now free, kneading into the cloth of Doflamingo's trousers, eager to show his subservience in order to save himself from _more_ subservience, even if he couldn't bring himself to say the words his master wanted to hear. The small moans of appreciation he forced to leave his throat ate into his heart, burnt his trachea.

Doflamingo gazed down at the momentum of his most rebellious slave lapping at his crotch, his delicate neck, the soft black hair framed between his legs, like some charlady who definitely knew her place. The Don Quixote Jolly Roger tattooed on the back of his hands. What joy it gave Joker to train Law, to break him into a thousand pieces. He was coming along so well, but he still hadn't answered his questions. He'd let him off this time. He was feeling quite generous, and even he had to admit that his queries were mostly rhetorical. He guessed Law _had_ experienced quite the traumatic day

"Well, actions speak louder than words, Law. What a needy cunt you are. Normal people wouldn't do this, you know. But it's normal for you now, isn't it? Tastes good, hmmm? You can't deny your DNA. You're trained for it and you're good at it. You're _not_ a good boy but you are good at things only wicked boys excel at. I like that kind of purity, Law." He continued to play with his hair, and Law continued to clean, too scared to look up. Filled with hatred.

"Nobody else can see that good in you, nobody else will have you, would want you." He leant back and gave a satisfied exhalation, his hands draped on the arms of his chair, as Law went to work. "No-one else, but me. Remember that." He caught Vergo's eye. Noticed the tent in his pants.

After Law had cleaned his master, the pink demon packed himself away, while Law remained on his knees until he was granted release. It couldn't be so simple. He wasn't allowed to wipe away the excess cum that had run from his mouth and had dried on his face. Doflamingo loved him, so shattered. How _dare_ he kiss that slave boy, when Law was his alone to kiss, and anyone else he, and he alone – Doflamingo – chose. Like now.

"Law," and Doflamingo waved a hand grandly, "Vergo."

His trusted subordinate, unlike this sneaky worm Doffy needed to discipline again and again, picked Law up, and turned him around. He loomed in front of him, pulling Law's hair with even more viciousness than Doflamingo had. Those grey eyes held nothing, just the way he like it. "White monster," he was already unzipping his pants, "Open up and put that fucking mouth to use."

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

The agate was tied to Law's wrist, and Marco closed Law's hand around it so he could feel the smooth stone through the thin gauze of the pouch that held it. He closed his own hand over Law's, and then as Law had taught him, tried to get him to synchronise his heartbeat and breathing to his own more placid inhalations and exhalations. He did this by calmly counting and stating – matched to the breath – _breathe in, breathe out_. He didn't know what Law was enduring in the dream, so he did no more than hold him. He wanted to caress his hair, but it could make things worse.

It took time for him to respond. What he could see of his lover's face was clouded, breathing, a chore, and the hand not around the agate opened and closed in some expression of pain and shock. The small sounds of surprise and despair continued. His eyes flitted under closed lids. A few tears slid down his face. But gradually, slowly – Marco hated how long it took – Law responded to his quiet voice, and he continued to hold the gem. Marco felt his lover's heart slow, and all sounds morphed into a form of more regular breathing.

Law's body shook in his arms until that too stilled. Then nothing. Finally, an exhausted hand reached up and touched his face just briefly, groping the air, the bed sheets, to find it. Marco knew that was briefly conscious Law. Then his chest was wet and he also knew it was conscious Law, but the only time Law could show this extreme vulnerability was after these nightmares. Marco knew he was still half asleep. But he could comfort him now.

The hand dropped, and the shaking resumed. Slightly different. He knew Law wasn't dreaming. Marco pushed his hands under his lover's t-shirt and wrapped his arms tightly around his scarred and heaving back. All compact and coiled. Pure fucking muscle. Forgetting about the damage Kid had inflicted. Ah, Law. What was he to do with him? He was vocal now. His cries audible. His hands practically clawing down Marco's chest. The blond had forgone a shirt that night. He knew that all he could do now was hold on while the pain and memories cascaded over Law's body, the visceral reaction to what he'd just gone through and had been through resonating, and because Law had someone to cling to, these emotions _could_ sweep him away, the shock could be worked out. It wasn't pleasant though. Would they be doing this when the doctor was in his 40s, 50s? He hoped not, just because he didn't want him to sustain pain for that long. He knew those nightmares weren't a walk in the park, but they weren't real. Even so, he'd be there for him if necessary. His drowning man.

He hefted him closer. His words reassuring. There were many bright things in Marco's world, and Law was one of them. Maybe the brightest. He couldn't tell the younger man no-one would hurt him, because it had proven untrue. But he'd had years of safety. He hadn't had a nightmare of this intensity in an age. The Whitebeard pirate grew angry at Kid again and then calmed. What was important now was holding his man, the soothing sounds, letting Law know it was okay to cry. There were times to shed tears. He'd help him, he'd hold him. Sometimes the smallest thing could be a trigger, though it rarely led to a meltdown like this. Eustass wasn't a small thing though, and Marco's North Blue blow-in had never stopped having to fight.

He knew Law would be embarrassed, but also knew they had enough of a bond for such things to be able to exist between them. Gratitude usually outweighed embarrassment, this pain worse than a bullet. With his healing ability, Law could fix that, not so the mental scars. Marco had rather Law show it than keep everything bottled up, cut off from him and the world. Smaller sounds now, hiccups. There'd be snot too of course and on cue Law's hand rose from the sheets, groped around, grabbed the tip of the sheet furthest from Marco and wiped his nose. His big bad tattoos looking vulnerable, if that were possible, on his spent arms. The reasons for needing such defences, for claiming his own skin, receding.

Marco looked down at the bundle in his arms and now only saw his hair. He felt Law's lips trying to form words against his chest. Maybe giving up. He knew what the word would be. There it was. Whispered. "Sorry." Baby Law. Sorry for daring to want something for himself, love, happiness, security, safety. Sorry for not knowing the right thing to do. With Doffy, with Marco, with Kid, with Vergo, with Luke. He got hurt cos he did wrong, right? Because he couldn't help being a slut. Because he deserved it. Because he liked it. He hated it, but it kept happening. He must seek it out. He must like it. There could be pleasure mingled with the pain, but never so much that it was worth it.

"You're always here for me." His hand snaked to Marco's face again, and the blond kissed its palm. "I'm always fucking up." His voice stuttered. "Appreciate what you do for me. Wish I could give back what you give me, that I didn't fuck up."

Marco eased Law up so that the latter was face to face with him. He was still crazy shuddering. His face, wrecked. He couldn't keep his eyes open. Too much pain. Too much past.

"And you do, baby, you do give back," Marco touched his chin, gave a very gentle kiss on his lips. "It's not all trauma, and I'll always be here to help you. You didn't fuck up. In no way in hell did you fuck up." Kid. He'd fucking kill him. He just continued to hold Law so close, their breath in each other's faces. Kissed his closed eyes. Held him, and held him, and held him.

Law still had a hand softly against his chest.

"I feel so weak all the time."

Marco knew that was self-talk and not true.

"Hardly."

Law's head dropped. "Eustass Kid. How could I let . . ."

"You trusted him Law. None of us can fight kairoseki." Kairoseki had stopped Marco at Marineford.

"True. But if I hadn't kissed Luffy or Smoker. I'm sorry if I hurt you. I wouldn't. Not on purpose." His stomach clenched thinking of all the things he'd done that could label him as loose or easy. Even today. Zoro. What was he doing? Was that why he was punished? It's why he was always punished. Had he hurt Marco? That was unforgivable. Did he have _rape me_ tattooed across his forehead? Was it a reward? Should he thank Kid? Doffy? Vergo? He couldn't. Should he apologise? Should he beg to be hurt as penance?

"I had to give them thanks, Marco. Doffy, Vergo . . . for disciplining me, using me, showing me the right path."

Marco growled. "Kid wanted you to thank him?"

"Said I'd call myself his bitch." There was a growl, buried beneath the fatigue. "What do I do to have these men fucking want to rut me, Marco?"

"Nothing." Law found his constant kisses and caresses soothing. Marco pried one of Law's hands free from where it was clenched against his chest, the grip having grown tighter as he talked about Kid, and he entwined their fingers. The death tattoo contrasted with his own un-inked fingers. "He'd find an excuse, Law. You have the right to choose who you give affection to. Babe, I know you do nothing to attract that kind of fucked up attention, and whoever does? You think I'd be happy seeing Smoker or Luffy if I thought anything was going on?"

Law took that in. Marco felt the pressure in their joined hands. Just slight, but he knew Law was scrambling to ground himself, to find a connection.

"Maybe if I start wearing a burlap sack."

Marco laughed. He knew Kid's words were stinging him.

"Those words, Law, they're cheap. Cheap and cruel. Designed to leave you with no confidence and they can then use them to justify themselves."

Law had no need to clarify who _they_ were.

"Half of the underworld and pirate world didn't even know you had tattoos until the marines put out those posters, and I'm not talking about the brand. You're hardly an exhibitionist."

In the loud pirate world at least.

Marco traced one of those tattoos now. It was true. It wasn't until Dressrosa that the media and World Government learnt of the swirling heart tattoo on his chest. Homage to his beloved Cora-san. Most didn't know, until Law's arrest two years later, and flaying by Kizaru, of the modified Doflamingo tattoo on his back. It was massive. He was more inked up than most, but it was personal with Law. It wasn't for attention. His forearm and finger tattoos were evident, but not his upper arms.

"Why's it keep happening if what they say isn't true? Maybe I _was_ just born to be used." Law murmured as if just waking.

"No. That's the shock talking, sweet. Let's not go through this again. You've deserved none of these fucked up assaults, at any stage, nor your parents, friends and town dying, or having to escape the way you did. People who use your past against you, they make me sick. And you definitely haven't hurt me."

"Mmm." Law closed his eyes, said after consideration, "I was getting melodramatic. Sorry." But the scenes kept playing behind his eyes and Marco knew it.

"You've never hurt me, Law. We all like affectionate Law, and it's preferable to aloof and distant, sad and lonely Law. There are some people who throw it around, and that doesn't mean they deserve to be hurt either, but you're not one of them."

"Thanks," Law's eyes remained closed. "Though I can get my gay on." A small smile.

And he could. Law could be absolutely fabulous. Marco smiled in turn, but then noted tears still, a few, spilling from the sides of his lover's face. "Maybe with my reputation though," and Marco knew he was referring to his alleged promiscuity, not his brutality, "I just should be a little more aware of my actions in public." His voice was small as he tried to catch his breath.

Marco nuzzled the hair. He sighed. "Kid should be the one modifying his behaviour, but yet again it's you who's doing so. It was a private party, Law. Everyone should have felt safe to act naturally, within reason. Especially you. We were hosting it, after all. I'm glad that was a possibility for a while."

Yet it ended up with me on the end of Eustass' dick, Law thought, grimaced. "Showing happiness equals getting fucked?"

"Well, it can lead to that if that's what _you_ want, but you're talking about rape. I certainly hope not, and screw him for saying such a thing."

Law curled into Marco again, and breathed into his chest, finding solace in the steady heartbeat. Marco released their hands, and looped his own across Law's hip. "It's not even really Kid, I mean it is, but it's just everything else."

Marco, circled Law's back.

"Being raped, assaulted, for anyone, but from such an early age, Marco, it fucks you up," Law sighed. "It really does."

Marco gave a sad smile. "No shit?"

He tried to gauge what he could see of Law's face. There was a quick twist. His brow tightening. A deep fucking exhalation.

"They'd tell me what they were going to do at times. So mouthy."

Law was quiet during sex, unless they found something to laugh about, which they often did. Marco figured it was a defence mechanism; no-one was going to get Law to yell out anyone's name against his will if he could help it. Was going to use his words against him, though the silence might have been drilled into him, or worse. Anything was imaginable with Doflamingo and those strings.

"They were always gonna beat me to within an inch of my life, fuck me so hard I couldn't walk. Told me constantly how much I'd enjoy it, how much of a slut I was for it all. All that went without saying – they'd actually tell me that – but they had to fucking say it anyway. Then I had to thank them. Because someone wanted me. And it was my duty to take it, because I was a worthless piece of shit and my opinion counted for nothing."

Marco felt the distress physically reoccupying Law's space.

"Who says that . . . Who says that to anyone?" _What could you say that would possibly be of interest anyone?_ It reverberated. He'd challenged Doffy's assumptions at Dressrosa, but he lost there, and now he couldn't chase him out of his and Marco's bedroom.

Marco encouraged Law to keep turning the agate. He made a mental note to remember to thank Luffy for the system.

"I could never please them. What did I do wrong? I never knew what I did wrong, Marco." The hand around the agate, was pushing into his chest as well. "What was I getting rewarded for? Why was it important for me to learn such things? What did I do to make them choose me? How could I please them so they never did it again?"

Marco sighed. "You couldn't, babe," he brushed Law's hair back from his face. "You know that. You're in shock now. You could only beat them, escape them, run, and you did. They were sick, are sick. But I hate that they've taken up residence here," and he tapped Law's head, "and here," he tapped Law's heart.

Law was murmuring, not dropping off yet, Marco hoped, he wasn't fully grounded

Hemmed in by them. Utter violation . Totally helpless. Feeling responsible. It didn't happen to others.

He was sobbing. Again.

What the _fuck_ was that dream? How'd they get back here? Marco wondered how he could get them out of Law's head?

"I never asked for it, Marco. I didn't."

That old refrain.

"Unless they made me beg, or for survival. I never wanted it."

And its cousin.

"Babe," he sat up and pulled Law up again, his lover's hands clinging at his chest like a baby animal trying to find any traction. He still had the agate.

"Babe, wake up." He needed to see Law's eyes.

"Kick them out. It's me and you now, and we – current Law and me – Marco, love you as much as the sun in the sky. We're as constant as that orb up there. Still present, even when covered with cloud."

Law curled into him, crying hard, again. Marco brought his arm once more around his back.

"Tell me," Law whispered, his words ragged, "Tell me how you love me. Tell me who I am."

Marco's eyes watered. Who you're not, he thought. He knew it ate Law up inside even to ask.

"I'll be my own cheer team other nights, I promise. I won't forever be burdening you with this. But I need some sweet words to chase those bastards out of my head." Please. Unspoken. _Please._ Law's head was nestled into Marco's shoulder. His eyes shut tight. Face streaked with tears. He wanted to touch Marco's face again, but couldn't raise his arms.

"You're never a burden, babe. Except when you're a royal pain in the arse, and that's often enough."

Marco felt the fingers of Law's hands, curled against his chest, unfold, and lightly press into the flesh, as if testing for ripeness, just to feel he was there.

"I'm gonna fucking kill Kid."

No reaction from Law. But he was. Or they'd have to think about it. That was a future conversation.

"You're the man Cora loved."

Law shifted up slightly, and into Marco's arms more. Shaking but more settled. His breath was still shallow.

"He didn't know me as a man." All of Law's words were as if from a great distance, tiredness in their articulation.

"But he loved you as you should have been loved for your whole life."

"I was a brat."

"He loved you nonetheless, and brat or not, you never deserved to go through what you did."

"Hmm," Law murmured. His palm was flat now. He loved feeling Marco's heart. He'd loved Cora-san. "How about now?"

"That's easy, you're my best friend."

Law snuggled into him further like a kitten. All of his energy directed to being joined to his lover.

"We run a bar together and you're great and fair with the staff."

Marco could feel everything regulating around Law, calming down, a sense of contentment. His breath evening out.

"If Monkey D. Luffy ever needs advice, he comes to you."

Law laughed. Luffy never needed advice. He just operated on his own plane and plan at all times.

"When have you ever known Luffy to ask for or take guidance?" They both smiled. Luffy would come to the Heart captain, though rarely for counsel.

"You're a great swordsman," Marco whispered into his hair. Law didn't know why that hit such a chord, but Marco felt him smile.

"You're my sensual lover, Law. My right hand man. With what you choose to give me with your body and heart, it's me who's blessed. Why hide away this sexy piece of arse?" And Law didn't mind when Marco gave a squeeze to his buttock. This was between them. He stirred his head a little. Not moving to take it further. Not tonight. But his lower body as well as his upper now pressed more into the supple body beside him.

"Maybe because I only want you to fuck it?"

"But why hide that you're a fantastic looking man. That you move with an agility men would kill for?"

Law frowned.

"Because I don't want anyone to come onto me."

"You're self-assured, Law. You're understated, and you're modest. You're actually humble, despite all that bullshit spouted by the marines. And _don't_ you _dare_ quote this back to me the next time we have an argument and your ego gets in the way. But if being self-contained comes across as being sexy, well it fucking is. But if anyone thinks that's excuse enough to attack you, just 'cause they're too insecure and hyped up on testosterone, well it isn't."

Law breathed out. A loving sigh. Not sadness. He kissed Marco's chest. A caress of tenderness. Marco said all the right things.

"Babe?"

Law looked up. It was one of the few times Marco had seen his eyes since his nightmare started. They were soft and mellow now, though ringed in red, still scared and unsure at the edges, but Marco could see it was safer to approach some topics.

"Kid is the only one to lay a hand on you in many years. I want you to remember that. He's the anomaly rather than the norm."

Law reflected on that. He put his head back down to Marco's chest, like a child. He had to hunker down a little to do so. "Others have tried."

"But got nowhere near. Foolish fuckers. They obviously didn't value their fingers." Law would slice them off with no compunction. Break them if his nodachi wasn't near. It made him wonder why Kid was still in one piece, but then, seastone was involved. "It's been fewer and fewer as the years have gone on though, right?"

He felt Law's head move. "I'm no longer in my prime, thank God."

"It's not just that." Marco tipped Law's head so he'd look at him again. He peered up. One would think sated, like a cat, but Marco guessed it was more coddled into safety. He didn't mind indulging Law tonight. Law didn't let him often, nor did he actually have the urge for either of them to be too dependent on the other. He'd broken down on him twice tonight though. He couldn't desert him. They were solid. He couldn't imagine being with anyone else.

He ran his finger along Law's jawline. "You made, make, powerful and loyal friends, Law. You've fought fierce battles. You did and do amazing work as a doctor. Nothing else, negative, nothing else negative matters. You didn't gain your notoriety by killing civilians. You gained it by trying to hurt those who were hurting them, even if that wasn't your driving motive. The good outweighs the bad, in the last ten years or so, and you know it."

Though a hundred pirates out there without their hearts, the ones who had survived, cursed him on a daily basis.

Law nodded. Would he say it? May as well. In for a penny of self-pity, in for a pound. "You're right. But the bad was really bad."

"Brought us together."

"True."

"Doflamingo, Vergo, Akainu, Kizaru, they didn't get the chance to take you again."

"Also true, though their smack talk was something else." And it really was. "Thanks for helping me through that."

"Mmm." Marco couldn't dispute that. Each visit had triggered Law.

"Kid breached our defences and upset our harmony, but it's only temporary, right?"

"Hope so," Law said, pushed Marco onto the bed, the two lying down again.

"That's not encouraging."

Law had his soft and sleepy smile, his face had lost most of its anxiety.

"I won't let him destroy what we have," Law said, and kissed him slowly on the lips. Marco responded, before Law broke away.

"You need your sleep." Law felt responsible for interrupting that too. Marco would be the one opening the bar, or deciding to close it tomorrow, seeing where their life was going from here. Law was probably going to lie in a darkened room. Not for long, but he knew how he got through these things.

"Try? Me too. Now should be okay." He'd be faking it if he yawned though, but he felt warm and loved enough in Marco's arms that he could lie there comfortably.

"No more talking?"

"Not now," said Law quietly. "I can sleep, knowing you're here."

"Close your eyes, you mean, I know you."

Law smiled. He turned so his back was to Marco, held the hand of the arm Marco slid under his armpit, and placed both their palms under his cheek, Marco's arm crossing his chest.

"I'm sorry for all the trouble. Even so, Christ, I love you."

"Mm, stop apologising. Are you Bepo or what?" Marco mumbled into his hair.

"Nowhere near as pure," Law said.

"Shh," Marco breathed once more into the nape of Law's neck. "The feeling's mutual. I'm with you for who you are, Law. Everyone else can go to hell."

* * *

 **A/N:** **Thanks for reading** , and for all forms of feedback.

 **Next:** Our sleepy surgeon meets some old friends. Plans are made. ~ _No_ tea-towels were damaged in the making of this chapter ~

 **Taranis K** , thanks for your comment! Yes, I put the French comment in there for you :-)

 **Hmm** . . . Who should I credit with this one? A shout out to _Chess and the Dressrosan Women_ , a fanfiction on this site (writer-xanthangummy), though my writing is not as explicit as that style, and _Repossession_ is all kind of about the after-effects and escape from such scenarios (while still writing about and alluding to them. Sorry, Law).

* * *

 **Note: Dec 8, 2018** : The Vivre Cards have come out with Marco's height, and he's got 12cm on Law. When I started writing these two, a post on Oro Jackson had Marco at about 184 cm, which I prefer. I initially wrote Marco taller, and readjusted everything. Now, it seems I need to go the other way! BUT, I'll just leave author notes instead. It's always an AU anyway.


	28. Ch 28 - Day after tomorrow, Benn, Shanks

**A/N: No warnings. Wait. Langauge. Mature Themes.**

* * *

 **Chapter 28: The Day after Tomorrow: Law, Marco, Benn, Shanks**

* * *

Law kept good to his promise to himself, and after having a shower, checking over his bruises and cuts, a change of clothes, he closed the blinds in their room and climbed back into bed. Actually, he'd changed the sheets, put on a wash, hung out the older sheets, and then gone under the covers.

Marco smiled at him. He was being indulgent. Law was. Of himself. Considering how active he'd been before turning comatose. He'd even got up earlier, not having been able to get back to sleep, and made Marco some lunch, though the bar crew could do it just as well. Hell, he wasn't incapable of taking care of himself either.

The blond had come into the room before he headed down. He sat on the edge of the bed, and mussed Law's hair, as he liked to. Law looked up at him with warmth. With his cat's eyes. With a face that showed that he knew maybe he should get up, but that was also ravaged from the night before.

"Are you going to sulk today?"

Law murmured confirmation. "I didn't get back to sleep." He had fewer nightmares in the day. Though shitty things could happen at any time of day, in his experience the cover of darkness emboldened the more fucked-up urges of many men.

"I'm not opening up today, but I'll just check how everything's going."

Law held Marco's hand, connected, even if not energetic. "Pay the staff out. It's not their fault."

Marco nodded. "Was going to." As he had the day before. He leant down and kissed Law, the brunet kissing him back.

"By the way, Shanks and Benn are dropping in later. I'll be here when they come by. Stay in here and brood. They won't mind. See what you feel like."

Law nodded. He had a reputation for selfishness at times, but at times he just couldn't move.

"Kikoku's just behind you."

"I know exactly where she is."

"Can I touch her?"

Law nodded.

Marco walked to where she was and placed her right beside Law and then wrapped his lover's hands around her. His lack of resistance, and the slight relief he saw cross his face showed him how much he wanted her near, and how much he'd kept her close, but not that close, out of respect for Marco, but also because Marco was there, and together they could be as strong as Kikoku. He leant down and kissed Law's lips softly again.

"That makes me feel better," he said.

"Me too," Law mumbled.

"Just don't be in the midst of nightmares when I come through the door."

 _Midst?_ The younger man smiled to himself. Maybe Marco thought ye dragons of olde were the perpetuators of his dreamscapes. "Okay," he said sleepily, turned around, pulling the nodachi close to him, and the cover over his shoulders.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Law slept through Shanks' loud laughter when all three tumbled through the front door later. Marco had met them at the bar and brought them up to the house. They'd had a few beers while waiting for the Phoenix to complete some paperwork, and he joined them once done, filling them in on what had happened. Marco knew there'd be a few key people Law wouldn't mind knowing, who he'd want informed. Who he felt wouldn't judge him for weakness or perceived habit. Though the topic was never comfortable. Shanks _had_ seen him as a kid as part of the Don Quixote family after all.

And then there'd been the years on his ship, under his protection, after his escape from the World Government. He'd developed deep bonds with Shanks, Benn and Marco there, and the emperor and his crew really had protected him. In turn, he'd fought when called to, sewn their wounds, and looked after their well-being. Anyone who was a friend of Luffy's was a friend of Red-Haired, and then even more so once his relationship with Marco developed.

"Do we kill him?" Benn had asked in the bar.

Marco tipped his head, he wasn't sure.

"If people didn't know the reason, it'll seem petty, vengeful."

"And Law wouldn't want people to know."

Marco shook his head. "No. Not that kind of scrutiny."

"All the alliances and balances are kind of new. It's better – I mean the world in general – but we may need to tread carefully with this mess."

"Except Luffy's personally involved."

"And Smoker, I hear." Shanks tipped back his beer, surveyed the empty shack.

"Kureha and Tsuru."

"Tashigi?"

Marco nodded. "All of the Strawhats."

"They know?"

The blond shook his head. "Neither do Kureha and Tsuru, necessarily, but I'm sure they'll get the intel from Smoker. Zoro stopped the attack, so he knows, but he's discreet, and Luffy can be sensitive when the situation calls for it."

Shanks didn't look convinced.

"Where Law's concerned."

"Ahh," Benn and Shanks said.

"So, the Strawhats might not know the details, but they'll support Luffy in anything."

The two older men nodded.

"Why don't we talk to the first mate?" Benn asked. "He seems balanced."

"Killer? Yeah, where was he the other night?"

"It's a possibility, if we want to speak with them at all. Otherwise we just make their life as miserable as we can." Shanks grinned, his foot jigging up and down, a hand on the hilt of his sword. He hadn't run the blade through a piece of vermin in a good while.

Benn lifted his bottle with a grunt of agreement.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Law picked up the lighter and cigarettes from the kitchen counter, the ashtray from the dish rack. He'd left them there last night. He crossed into the lounge room. The morning sun hit the other side of the house, but the skies were usually so clear, that all parts of the house felt light and airy. He did want to see everyone and the lounge itself was comfortable, though he didn't know what he'd say. Being treated differently? It was at the same time necessary and hard to bear.

Every attack questioned who he was as a person, as a man. What had Kid said? Whores can't get raped. He'd heard the disbelief and disgust in enough voices telling him that men couldn't either. Ignorant pricks. The harshest voices – mired in ridicule and scorn – were enmeshed in the corners of his own mind. He encouraged that scared little critic to come sit where it was brighter, where he could thank it for trying to protect him. He didn't need internal knee-jerk adherence to definitions that only wore him down.

He let out a sigh as he sat, the glass of the ashtray clunking on the wooden panel on the side of the lounge. He placed the lighter and smokes beside it. Those disparaging voices had got younger Law through some appalling times, as he had to rely on those who abused him to feed and shelter him. Questioning too deeply at that stage of his life would have done his head in, especially when every fibre of his being was grieving the loss of Cora, and recovering from amber lead. But it was no longer the case, and it had never been the truth. He'd known it even then. But he'd internalised the blame. Definitely. That kind of mess took some time to recognise and even longer to untangle.

The majority of those marines from that attack years ago had gone home to their wives and girlfriends he guessed. Maybe they told him. There was always such a big show that apparently only Law among them preferred males, yet they all got off by shoving _their_ dicks up his fucking arse. His sexuality was always one of their excuses. The irony wasn't lost on him. It wasn't anything he initiated, but something they insisted he submit to. The other driving justification was that he'd been a slave, of course.

Was that what being masculine, being male meant? To fuck him and to fuck him over and to return to the house with the white picket fence once their time with the marines was up? Fuck them. He didn't need nor believe their limiting definitions.

He drew his feet up. Still difficult to do, but a habit he was comfortable with, and his devil's fruit aided healing. Kikoku was to his left, leaning against the couch.

He lit a cigarette, his hand steady. Surprisingly. Sanji had given him the lighter. It advertised his restaurant. _Sorry, firebird_ , he sent out to Marco. Law hated the smell of cigarettes in the house, and knew enough about the dangers to not indulge that often. You never knew which one was going to turn the cell cancerous. But. _He inhaled_. It calmed him at times of extreme stress. _Exhaled._

He pushed his fringe up with his spare hand and stared out at nothing much. The hardwood floors, the white featureless wall. For now.

How did those who attacked him _other_ him? What was the diabolical formula? Which part of being different gave them the green light? Which government policy enabled them to desensitise? It didn't help that the World Government not so discreetly condoned slavery, and having Doflamingo holding the reins in other ways hadn't been beneficial either.

There were personal demons and conditioning too. He'd seen those marines attack anyone. Joker had a fleet of slaves. Maybe he was part of a general other. A stratum made up of the crushed and minced bones, spirits and bodies, of people like him, reserved for maintaining the hierarchy.

He'd had no-one when he'd left Flevance. He found his voice. He'd never been quiet in terms of claiming a space for himself in the world, except when buried amongst those stinking, rotting corpses as he fled his hometown, and even then, his actions made sure he survived against the odds. The trouble was that the odds didn't want him to win.

He had no pity for the marines, the mindless who'd abused him. Though some for their wives and girlfriends if they treated them the same way they treated him. Probably put them on a fucking pedestal. It didn't explain Kid, or Doflamingo. They were just unhinged nutcases, but, yeah, he'd bank on brutalisation at some stage of the game.

Law was analytically fascinated by the heights and depths of humanity, but for every brightly lit sky, there was a well-hidden cesspit of fear, usually sealed with governmental approval in one way or the other. And it rubbed him the wrong way that others insisted it should be his dwelling of choice.

Most levels of ill-treatment stemmed from a need to control and overpower, and often had its origins in the same. _Thank you, Cora._ A common refrain. He stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, stood and emptied it in the bin in the kitchen. How could he sleep with that stink right under his nose?

 _It happened to me it can happen to you. Tenfold._ That had been his policy. You being anyone still living. What is genocide times a thousand? Apocalypse? He could have trodden that path. Cora had cared when others had been invested in his wellbeing only for their own gain. He was glad he hadn't followed Doflamingo, though he did need to slice out some hearts. That was always a good stress relief. Or gardening. He'd get into the garden tomorrow.

He returned to the sofa and lay down. The lounge room adjoined the spaces before the kitchen and before the bedroom. The house was mostly open plan. They'd see him from wherever they ended up gathering, or the nodachi, at hand's reach.

He was tired. That outpouring last night had drained him. Poor Marco. The taste of that dream was still on his tongue. He clutched the agate. As he well knew, shock took time to work through. Fuck gardening. Counting disembodied hearts beating in a crate was as good a lullaby as any to fall asleep to.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

His haki was usually good enough to tell if friend or foe were in the immediate vicinity, so he was still asleep when the Whitebeard and Red-Hair pirates entered the room.

Marco quickly spied the nodachi and smiled. His Law wanted to meet up with his nakama. His second or third nakama away from the original Heart Pirates. The guy could and did make very loyal friends. Shanks was loud as ever, and Benn was complimenting them on their home, even though he'd seen it many times before. Marco wondered if he was growing tired of being constantly on a ship. He could understand that, though Law was the one who'd suddenly grown domestic. Or maybe it hadn't been that sudden.

Marco pointed them to the kitchen, just the next room across, so they could put supplies in the fridge and get a few beverages for themselves, and then wandered over to check on his partner.

"How is the Surgeon of Death?" shouted Shanks from the kitchen, slamming the beers they'd brought up on the counter.

"His nodachi's out," said Benn, "I'd steer clear for now."

Marco was able to sit on the armrest, looking down at Law. He continued to sleep. The blond was so relieved to find his face free of the anguish of the night previously. Happy for the even and regular breaths. He frowned at the bruise on his cheek, already fading into a nasty yellow, but smiled at the pouch containing the agate that the Heart pirate had tied to his wrist. He hadn't been wearing it when Marco left.

He didn't think it meant Law had any nightmares. The doctor hadn't seemed concerned about it, but in case he did, he knew Law didn't want to inadvertently slice them in a panic. The stone helped avert such scenarios.

Benn wandered over. "Brave man," he said, meaning Marco.

"And yet, there you stand," Marco replied, lightly trailing fingers across Law's forehead.

"Yeah. I'm kinda fond of the grumpy bastard, and I hadn't heard any screams from your direction, so I guessed it was safe."

Marco turned to him, smirking. "Well, I am his lover." He could smell the cigarettes in the room. Noticed the pack on the coffee table. He'd have to stock up on their emergency stash. It hadn't been touched for some time. But was almost depleted now from use over the last two days.

Benn nodded. "Point taken." He wasn't lying though. He'd come to depend on Law for sensible conversation over the years. For his intelligence and connection.

Along with Marco, Shanks and himself, and many others, Law had been pivotal in getting Luffy away from Kizaru and Akainu, and both admirals had hated him ever since. Especially because the escape had been so audacious. On a submarine. And then he'd been a doctor too. Able to fix those magma burns. That really flipped the finger at the whole World Government.

Benn had been the one to pull the gun on Kizaru as he'd tried to stop Law. Kizaru still managed to send some lasers Law's way, underwater, but luckily they didn't make target. And like Luffy and Ace, that bastard Teach, Law was a D.

"What was Kid doing taking on a D?"

Marco shrugged. No-one still actually knew what it meant, except that holders of the initial were stubborn as fuck. He could vouch for that.

"Why would anyone want to hurt him?"

"Law sleeping always looks much sweeter than he actually is." Marco said, though he also knew there was an integrity to the man that he wouldn't do without.

"Not by much," Benn said, and put a hand on Marco's shoulder. Maybe he was thinking of Bepo. Marco shot him an appreciative glance.

"I'm surprised he's slept through that." And he tipped his head into the kitchen where Shanks was bellowing down the phone. A surprise call from Luffy, their distinctive laughs melding and carrying throughout the house.

"Me too. He really must need his sleep."

"Balcony?"

Marco nodded, and they took the party outside.

* * *

 **XxxX**

* * *

Law shuffled out later, all bedhead, and holding his nodachi to his side like a plushie again. Barefoot. For someone who could be so incognito, thought Shanks, eyeing the tattoos, new for him, on the bridges of his feet, he was marked up from here to Armageddon. He watched as the afternoon sun angled in from the right, spilling over the younger man, as he crawled into his chair without much of a greeting, drawing those inked feet up.

"Has he had his coffee?" Shanks stage-whispered, and Marco shook his head no. He got up to prepare it, and rested his hand on Law's shoulder for a second as he passed. The brunet held it for that time.

Shanks was taller than Law by a centimetre, both men were a few centimetres taller than Marco. Benn, cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, stood up and towered over Law. He towered over them all. The doctor looked up. If Cora hadn't been so goddamned tall he'd be terrified of taller men. Doflamingo and the admirals had height on Beckman, so he wasn't intimidated.

"Benn-ya," he drawled and only let out a surprised exhalation as Benn picked him up and into a huge hug. He made a vague mental note of Beckman's smoke, and hoped it was well out of harm's way. Law didn't struggle, like he might do if he was one hundred percent. Would do. He was so like Ace, thought Marco, leaning on the edge of the sliding glass door frame, a tray of coffees in hand. So tender at times. Instead, like he had with Marco himself, he let his head touch the chest of the mighty pirate, and his arms returned the embrace, and his legs were secure in Benn's hold. It was gratitude. Anyone could feel it. Just don't drop any ash on me, Law thought, but didn't have the energy to say.

"When did you grow so clingy?" Benn grumbled down. Frowning at the bruised face in the way Marco had.

"You'll drop me otherwise."

Shanks laughed. "Luffy rub off on you?" He also stood, withdrew Benn's cigarette, ashed it, and returned it between his lips. Benn nodded his thanks.

"Had to somewhat," murmured Law. But Marco actually knew Law was still exhausted, worn out, and could very well fall asleep like that.

"Put him down, Benn, before he's sawing logs."

Shanks leant across before Benn could and gave Law a fatherly peck on the temple of his bruised face. Their tactile surgeon, with those he loved, when he felt like it. He smiled at the red hair. That quick fleeting thing, mulberry streaks at the top of his cheekbones marked fatigue. Shanks smiled back.

"We're happy you're safe, Law."

Benn put him back in his seat, and he drew his feet up again, his nodachi towards him, and went back to brooding, though keeping an eye on all around him, an ear on the conversation.

"Did you decide to be a brat, Law?"

Marco brought out coffee for all and Law reached for his. Again, his thanks was a touch. He took a sip of the scalding brew, then a few more. That was better.

"Sorry," he said, hand still on his nodachi. "It's been a tough couple of days." Another sip of the brew that Marco had perfected today. He didn't always get it right. "I'm glad you're here." And he was. Even so, that was about it for his contribution. Happy to feel safe in their company without laying his psyche bare

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Conversation was soft and easy. He knew they were being kind, and would have discussed his situation earlier. He didn't mind that, though it made him slightly uncomfortable. He needed more control. They chatted about Luffy's amazing climb to the top, and the exploits of all of their crews. Law could do with Bepo now.

As the evening wound down, the stars again not giving a shit if he were happy or not, Law leaned across the table, inhaling on a joint he felt no guilt in smoking, exhaling – all panther energy.

The three men looked up at the sudden movement from their favourite sloth. To be fair, sloth-like wasn't usually on the descriptive list for the Heart Pirate.

"Let's invite Killer and Kid, Heat maybe, for a meeting next week, if you two agree to be here." He waved the fingers holding the joint in Shanks and Marco's direction. It was a given that Marco would be there. It was about the only thing Law had said for the whole visit. Kid's name was bitter on his tongue.

The atmosphere electrified. Shanks looked to Benn to Marco. All with grim mafia expressions. They looked back at Law. They'd do whatever he wanted. The youngest among them then sat back, legs still curled into himself, nodachi still near, black hair at all angles, a faint smile on his face.

"I don't want to hurt him, physically," he said, though he knew he gained instant satisfaction from the idea, but only short term. "But I do want to scare him."

There was some modicum of truth in his moniker, after all, and all three men shivered at the hard glint in Law's eyes, but they were there for him, almost no matter what.*

* * *

 **A/N: *** That is, they never volunteered to be one of Law's lab rats, no matter how much he cajoled and wheedled, trying to convince them of the merits of personally contributing to science and medicine for the greater good. The good doctor was on his own in those cases. Even the promise of a commemorative tea-towel, or one of the not so special coins from his collection could sway them.

* * *

 **Note: Dec 8, 2018** : The Vivre Cards have come out with Marco's height, and he's got 12cm on Law. When I started writing these two, a post on Oro Jackson had Marco at about 184 cm, which I prefer. I initially wrote Marco taller, and readjusted everything. Now, it seems I need to go the other way! BUT, I'll just leave author notes instead. It's always an AU anyway.

 **Thanks for reading** and all forms of feedback. Next chapter, the meeting.


	29. Chapter 29 - The Meeting

**A/N:** Some language. Mature content.

* * *

 **Chapter 29: The Meeting**

* * *

The meeting was at Law and Marco's house. Held there before the Kid pirates were too far out of the area and where things could be conducted indoors, away from outside eyes. If the Kid pirates wanted to negotiate with anyone, this side of the new legit, this had to be sorted, and they knew it.

Killer could have murdered Kid. He knew he'd always had a raging hard-on for the entitled black haired pirate, and his form of jealousy and concept of what he he had a right to was not at all pragmatic. Hell everyone in the new world knew what kind of bitch Law had been, but that's where Kid and Killer's views parted.

Killer was loyal to a fault. The two South Blue boys went way back and had covered each other's backs for as long. But he didn't hold with slaves. The world nobles, shichibukai and others who treated people like their own personal trash, punching bags and toys were the despicable ones in his opinion. In many people's opinions. Just not in Kid's. At least in practice.

Among the pirate world and the crude life on the sea though, he'd heard enough smack talk about Trafalgar Law once the marines and – after his release – Doflamingo started revealing the doctor's past and using it against him. As if they hadn't made that very past.

He knew of the stigma that came with that brand, and many idle pirate conversations described in detail – if that was your thing – what they'd make Law do if he were in front of them, none of them pleasant for the Heart Pirate, except in their inflamed imaginations. He scoffed wondering what they'd really do if Law were in front of them, and knew that Eustass had only been able to subdue him with seastone.

Those who weren't so governed by their baser instincts remembered that he actually had powers, the things he'd done before captivity – Sabaody, Punk Hazard, Dressrosa - the fights since escape, working with the Straw Hats, the Whitebeard Pirates and with Shanks. His healing powers.

Law had some powerful friends. His actual deeds were far more awe-inspiring than any marine propaganda. Though he lay low, he really did, but Killer heard Akainu, Kizaru, Doflamingo and Vergo had been after him, so it was no wonder. Kid of course saw that as notoriety and the kind of attention he wanted, that he wanted his name associated with. Guess he was still smarting from that defeat by Kaidou. He'd taken them by surprise with that tumble from the skies.

As with many of his cohort, he assumed Law slept willingly with everyone to get where he was, and on both sides, or all sides of world power. That stint as a shichibukai hadn't done much to counter those views.

Then again, Killer never forgot that shocking picture of Law's back, after his standing as a warlord had long been revoked, and he was more inclined to believe the rumours of Doflamingo's cruelty, even though that was Kizaru's handiwork.

He wasn't as easily convinced, as invested in being convinced of the Heart Pirate capitalizing on a trade he'd been forced to learn. The older pirate had marks on him that weren't just battle wounds. So did a lot of pirates, and Killer was no more inclined to sleep with them either. Law's looseness was an easy myth for the easily incited, wanting to picture the wild, beautiful man tamed by and responsive to themselves.

This nebulousness made him untrustworthy of course. Once things became fairer in the world, with Luffy actually finding One Piece, a lot of that empty talk died down. Old bounties and marine campaigns of vengeance were dropped, the one against Law among them. Only, Kid didn't seem to forget. And in reality, knowledge of Law's past lay just below surface memory for most of them.

But, the guy had also escaped a marine prison, saved Strawhat Luffy, survived Doflamingo and the constant harassment of two admirals, one the fleet commander. That was the alternative story, and Law's escape was fact. And he'd saved Kid's arse from Kaido.

Killer shook his head. Of course Kid played that off, being Kid, no-one ever saved him. Maybe it was so that Heat, Wire and he, himself, could save face. They'd been part of the crew that had swarmed that hideout. Law was the one who found Kid though.

Kid was embarrassed, but he owed Law. Maybe it was because Law was the one to stop the pacifista from incinerating him back at Sabaody? Headstrong pride? He rarely gave the surgeon credit. Either it was Strawhat or his own crew who got the majority of that in the case of Kaidou, but it had been Law who'd got him out of that dungeon and fought off the yonko's soldiers when they were escaping.

He'd healed him too, and taken some fire. Kid took it as attraction of course, it was convenient for him to think so, and bristled at owing Law anything.

Why credit Luffy, but not Law? Killer wasn't sure of his captain's thought processes. It had been Killer who'd thanked him. Maybe Kid couldn't stand that attraction in himself, so he had to hurt the man he thought caused it.

When Killer heard from Kid's own mouth, as if it were his greatest achievement - even while his jaw was loose and he was gripping his ribs from the kick Marco had given him - that he'd had Law, that he'd pounded that little bitch into the pavement and slapped him around until he was calling out for more – Kid's words – how he'd pulled his legs up and the Heart captain had locked those muscular limbs around him like the needy slut he was, while Kid went at it, Killer could only grab the cloth of Kid's coat and spit out, "You did what?"

Especially when he and Heat had rounded the corner of the streets just outside of Marco and Law's beach shack bar, down the alleyway where, on reflection, he could imagine any leg locking on Law's part would be to stop himself from sliding all over that abrasive surface, to find a very sorry and drunk Eustass Kid being guarded by an unreadable Roronoa Zoro and a furious Monkey D Luffy.

The alleyway sizzled with fear and violence of a crime just committed, and he had no doubt his captain was the perpetrator. He noted the broken seastone cuffs lying nearby. Huge oaf. There was nothing charming about the situation.

Not wanting to give too much away to the other pirates, he and Heat closed in on their captain. "That tramp had it coming. Tongue down every throat but mine." Kid lifted his head and vaguely threw the comment out in the direction of Killer. It didn't seem he had too much awareness of where he was, at least in terms of danger.

Killer had stood back. Bad news. Kid snarled. "Hey, Monkey D Luffy. Pirate King. Your whore's a fine piece of arse! Who woulda thought it after servicing half the fucking Grand Line. Shame I didn't get to feel what those filthy lips around my . . .", and Killer had knocked him out before Luffy could.

Kid had felt chagrin the next day, but not necessarily remorse. Killer however knew they were screwed. If Shanks, Luffy or Smoker came after them, they wouldn't show any mercy. Law was known to be a sadistic bastard, but Killer had never really seen evidence, though he knew what he could do with those powers. How vindictive was he? He nursed a grudge for years against Doflamingo, but that man had tormented him for years too. Kid was a one-off. But it wasn't a simple punch up. Then again, there was the balance of the new world to consider, and he guessed, Law's probable wish to not have his past smeared all over the place again.

How could their captain screw up so badly? Despite the running animosity between Kid and Law, which many, including Law, unfortunately for him, saw as rude but mostly banter, Marco and the brunet had invited them to their private party because they happened to be in the area.

It was thoughtful, even if it was just a way to stop them from gatecrashing. Killer had gathered the day had been kind of a big deal for Law, with even fucking Tsuru there. How did Law know her? Maybe Kid had a point.

But the atmosphere had been mellow and relaxed, something Killer could get into. And the surgeon moved with litheness and confidence – he really was sensual – but not in a way that should have drawn the wrong kind of attention. Not as wary as he usually was.

He was just beautiful to watch, coiled energy and easygoing charm. He flirted like crazy with those he knew, Killer figured, in front of Marco, true, but Killer noted that he always returned to the Whitebeard commander. A quiet conversation here, a tipping of the head there, their fingers twisted together, helping staff with crates of supplies.

He wasn't over the top. He was a man in his prime. And his flirtations, maybe they were signs of appreciation, considering who was there.

Smoker, that was a surprise. He'd wondered why news was so quiet on Vergo and Doflamingo, and so focused on Law after the Don Quixote arrests, including that lashing. Kid wanted that? The treatment Law had received?

The escape had been brazen, but when he thought about it, Law was too important. There had to be inside help, and there it was. It made sense, as did the indebtedness, but did that indicate that Law passed out favours for freedom? Perhaps he did. It still didn't excuse Kid.

So, when the call came, Benn Beckman no less, setting up the meeting, Killer figured they had a number of choices:

Run and hope for the best.

Run and deal with lowlifes with no access to ever wheeling and dealing in this new, new world – that is, all connection with Luffy, Shanks and the best of the marines cut off due to Kid's actions.

Stay and be beaten to a pulp. Maybe Kid could get away with his life.

Stay put and hope for the best.

Attack.

There'd be payback. There had to be.

* * *

 **xXx**

* * *

"Law doesn't want you dead," Beckman said.

Killer was glad he'd taken the call. Kid would interpret that as Law enjoying the experience of being pinned under him. Why was Killer with this guy again?

"He doesn't want your captain hurt," there was a pause as Benn drew on his cigarette, "much . . . It's not necessarily a view we all share, understand? But we'll respect his wishes."

"Understood."

"He wants you, your captain, and Heat to come to his and Marco's house next Thursday at 10am. I hope Kid is a morning person."

"Go on," Killer growled.

"The Phoenix, Shanks, Law and I will be there."

Killer drew in a breath. Hard hitters. He hadn't wanted to meet the emperor in these kind of circumstances.

"This isn't a social visit, Killer, but neither is it war. If you still want to have any traction in the new world, you'd do best to come. Ask your captain and call me back within the day."

Killer hurriedly wrote down the number, and went to find Heat.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

"Two fruit users, two insanely strong men, conqueror's haki."

Kid, Heat and Killer walked along the road to Marco and Law's house. The two had been a little wary of giving their address, but everyone knew where they lived anyway.

"Yeah, we're screwed," Heat said.

"Don't know why the little bitch didn't just call me if he wanted a second date," Eustass joked. Killer grimaced.

"Kid, really not helpful. You're really going to have to think about that."

"I didn't hear him complaining."

"He broke your jaw."

"He likes it rough."

Killer stopped and looked at Kid.

"Really. Chill it. This guy saved your life. I don't get it."

Then again, Kid had spent a crazy amount of time imprisoned by Kaidou too. It had done little to temper his impulsiveness.

Kid waved his hand down. "Yeah, yeah, everyone keeps saying that. I coudla got myself out, and it just shows he was hot for me, right?"

Heat shook his head. "Shows he's a decent human being, Kid."

Kid ruffled the back of his hair. Not really getting it. "Wish he hadn't asked his boyfriends along."

Killer knew it was bravado, but would have liked for Kid to have more of a clue. If he had, of course, it never would have happened. Seemed to him that Heat and he were going to go down due to Kid's idiocy.

Beckman was at the door. He looked down at Kid and Heat. Looked at Killer, he was about Shanks' Height. Cute.

His rifle was strapped to his sash, but he took all their weapons, and indicated the fire extinguisher nearby to the blue-haired man, and put seastone on Kid immediately. Two cuffs on his workable hand. Killer bristled.

"Relax. You and Heat are free."

Kid immediately weakened. Immediately. He could barely move his metal prosthetic. He knew what this was like. Any fruit user who'd fallen into the ocean knew what it felt like. Beckman wasn't so rude as to blow smoke into their guests' faces, but he did remove his cigarette, pushed Kid easily against the wall and placed a vicious kiss against his lips, bit down on them. Kid squirmed, but with the seastone, could do very little.

"The fuck, man! I hope the rest of the visit's not going to go like that."

He wiped the back of his hand across his lips, could taste Benn's cigarettes, as the grey-haired man pulled away.

"Unless that tart's involved of course," he sneered, and Benn's eyes hardly had the chance to narrow before he punched the young red-haired pirate in the stomach.

"We all hold Law in high esteem," he said, one arm pushed up against the wall, easily and casually invading Kid's space, "And you'll do the same in this house, especially within anyone's hearing, and who knows, maybe even later when you grow into a decent human being."

Kid snarled.

"Where's your strength, Kid?"

Their faces were all marked and scarred like cutting boards put to regular use, and Benn wondered at the similarity of Kid's past wounds to Shanks' own.

Kid shook the seastone bands in Benn's face. There was his fucking strength.

"Doesn't feel good, does it? But if you're weak enough to have them on your wrists, you're weak enough to deserve everything you've got coming, right? That's how it works, right?" Benn's hand gripped Kid's bicep.

The guy at least had the decency to look a little shamefaced. He should be crawling with fucking regret, though Benn understood not being too small in what was at the moment enemy territory.

Heat and Killer stood by, ready to step in, but nothing had escalated to that yet. Both were aware that Kid was the one who had fucked up, and how.

"This way, gentlemen," and Benn led them to the balcony.

Kid was pleased that Law's face was still bruised. At least he wasn't the only one with the aftermath of injuries, and why was he not wearing something that covered up those bite marks? They were faded enough to be his, though maybe Marco had added some of his own.

From what he knew of Law, however, he didn't like to be marked, outside of wanted posters. Or at least he'd never seen him with marks like that on him before. Tough shit, when you got owned you got owned. He stopped himself from smirking.

Shanks, Law and Marco stood together. The Heart captain's outfit was similar to that night. Law's style and wardrobe didn't vary much. A black short-sleeve button up, comfortable black cotton pants. Sandals, this time. Shoes a little more practical if things turned nasty. A little more Marco's style, and a little less Benn's. Island living had rubbed off on him.

Law was at a side angle to Kid when he stepped onto the balcony, well on the other side of what would be the conference table. Really the round table that the couple used to entertain all their guests, only this wasn't a social visit.

Law stood with arms folded. Marco was just behind him, and put his arms on his lover's hips. Law tipped his head back into him in shared conversation before he put up his hand and created a room that covered all seven members.

Shanks also stood, to the left of Marco and Law, his arm resting against his body, fingers lightly on his sword. He looked directly at Eustass, expression grim.

Law must be really good in bed, the younger redhead thought. How did he get these guys on his side? The little taste he'd had certainly left him wanting more.

Shanks was emanating haki and Eustass felt himself sway on his feet a little, shit. He hoped Killer and Heat could bear it.

"Sit," Benn said, and the three visitors did so. Once the table settled, Law looked them all over. Benn stood behind the seat Kid took.

"Eustass," he said, turning to him. "Heat, Killer."

The latter two nodded their heads grimly, Kid said nothing, remained still, kept his gaze.

"How are those cuffs, Eustass?" Law tipped his head towards Kid's wrist.

"Just dandy." At least if Law was going to chop anything off, he had his room ready, so things could be reassembled, he thought. How serious was he?

"Takt." Law lifted a finger, Kid's arm and prosthesis whipped behind him and Law decided he'd keep them there for a while. It wasn't as effective as Doflamingo's strings, but it would prove a point.

"You still need your fruit ability to hold me back, even when I'm wearing seastone bracelets," Eustass sneered. But he didn't like feeling like he couldn't defend himself. There were four of them, after all.

"Hmm," Law said, his nodachi on his shoulder. "I just don't want to physically touch you." He actually shuddered and sent Kid such a look of disgust that Eustass almost sniffed his armpits, but then, to make himself feel better, went back to imagining what he'd do to Law the next time he got him alone.

Law caught the look, his disdain deepening, and released Eustass' hands from Takt. He kept the room up though. Kid let his prosthesis fall onto the table with a bang. Shanks scowled at him.

He placed his working arm beside it. Law sat down, Marco next to him. Shanks remained standing behind them, and Benn at the back of the table on Kid's side. Law put his hand in Marco's below the table for a second, and Marco was impressed at how steady it was.

"What're you trying to prove to your boyfriend?," Eustass jeered, following the action, the last word laced with scorn. Cuckold. Law was so incredibly pretty, so desirable. Law said nothing, but his grey eyes bore into Kid's crimson ones. He lifted their joined hands and kissed the top of Marco's fingers. Softly, and then lowered them again, not letting go, though they dropped out of sight. He straightened his shoulders and his black hair framed his face, all sawtooth angles. His earrings setting everything off.

What was up with this guy? thought Kid. How well put together was he? He's not affected at all. Why was everyone having fits? If that wasn't a come-on, what was? If he'd been so shattered by Kid's actions, then why was he being so public with his affection? Shouldn't he have learnt his lesson?

"I don't have to prove anything to him, Eustass," Law said. "You, however," he leant slightly over the table, both hands on top now, his sword by his side, "Don't seem to understand the effect your behaviour can have on others."

Kid snarled. Killer and Heat remained quiet, gauging the situation.

"What you gonna do, beat some learning into me?"

"You're far more civil than when we last met, Eustass. No friendly little endearments to remind me of my past?"

"Past?" Eustass said under his breath and shook his head. Law put his hand on his nodachi.

"I'm not vengeful much, Eustass."

And the face full of derision, that look of ownership, the younger pirate sent him, that Law had seen too many times, showed that he thought it was because deep down Law was really fine with the situation.

"But I am not okay with this. At any level. Understand?"

"Sure, sure. You're a power-hungry whore who got all mussed up sleeping with the commoner. But remember, this commoner isn't a common whore."

Law put his head onto his nodachi. "Yeah, you sure know how to show a guy a good time," he murmured, thinking of the fucking asphalt under his skin. Shanks sent out a shock of haki toward Kid.

"Stop that, would you?" he grumbled. Shanks just raised an eyebrow.

Law grimaced and spoke coldly, coolly and loud enough to be heard, quietly enough for menace. "I'd like to experiment on you, Kid. I don't really like hurting people. I prefer to heal them. But investigative surgery holds my interest. Introducing element a to element b.

"For example, if we put magnetic filings into your blood stream, how would it affect your fruit ability? Or come to think of it, your heart function, your liver, pancreatic ability and so on?

"What about we inject those, and along with your magnetic ability, we put you through the MRI to see whether similar elements attract or repel. How about other metals? Mecury, lead?" He knew how the latter felt, and it wasn't any definition of pleasant.

He stared at Kid. The redhead moved uncomfortably.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"You're not going to do that," Killer said. Heat glancing at him.

"Try me," Law repeated. Moving his head slowly to look at the blond and Heat. Shanks and Benn stayed nearby. The room remained up.

"You loved it," Kid said.

Killer registered the flicker, the slight twist of the mouth, but Law reined it in as quickly as it occurred. Still deadpan, but his eyes did drop to the table for an instant. Benn clicked his lighter to ignite another cigarette.

"I didn't."

The Kid Pirates felt the other men in the room bristle.

Law looked down at his fingers, studying his tattoos. Looked across at Kid, and spoke, expressionless, as polite as Kizaru, but with a whole lot less inflection.

"How can one increase one's knowledge without fresh subjects?"

He wouldn't even have to give up one of his tea-towels, he thought idly. Though that enticement never really worked.

Fuck, Law was magnificent, thought Marco. He was scaring the fuck out of him.

"Oi, creepy doctor!" Kid yelled out.

Law had a scalpel nearby and lifted it in the room with a bored expression.

"Oh? Now you can get the professions sorted out?"

"What do you want? Other than cutting me up, injecting me, using me as a specimen. What do you want?"

Law dropped the knife toward the table. Not blade first. It was one of his favourites. That would have been intimidating though. He caught the handle, not the blade, and twirled it in his fingers.

He still kept his distance from Kid. He didn't want to be too near that side of the table. Didn't want to be near his smell and the tactile memories Kid evoked.

"That about sums it up, really."

But there was that pesky detail about not hurting him. Why had he agreed with himself to that? He touched the very tip of the scalpel. He knew how much pressure he could apply not to draw blood, and of course, the opposite.

"Are you sorry, Kid? Do you even know what you did is wrong? Do you ever pause to think about the fall out?" He polished the scalpel with a small cloth he pulled from his pocket.

Marco, face passive, recalled the shuddering wreck of a man he'd held so recently.

"Well, if I knew my dick up your arse was going to turn you into a psycho surgeon, then yeah, I might have thought twice. But c'mon Doc, you were putting out for everyone at that party."

"No." Law shook his head. Definitely not.

"Your hands were all over everyone, why not me?"

"We're not having this conversation."

"You loved . . ."

"No." Law quickly replaced three of Kid's fingers with one another. He was quick. Heat and Killer barely had time to blink.

Kid yelped but thought it was kind of cool that he could still move them.

"You've lost one arm, do you want to lose the other?"

That would take the nodachi.

"Are you embarrassed? Humiliated?" he hissed at Law. After all, he'd owned the Heart pirate, captain, he'd beat him down.

" _Do you_?" Law eased his sword from its scabbard.

Kid shut up. Law wasn't embarrassed. He was angry, though, but he tried to keep calm. Anger just begat anger. Uncontrolled anger.

"Killer," Law appealed to the more rational of the crew. The blond looked his way. Law's eyes were steely. "We want him to work for Ivankov for a month."

All three drew in their breath.

"No way," yelled out Kid, hitting down his metal fist.

Law quickly turned his attention his way.

"What is it you said to me, Kid? I was trained for it. I was made for it. Therefore, I should accept it. Getting raped. I should accept being fucked and fucked up by you?"

"About that," he mumbled. But you're used to it, he thought.

"Well, let's train you up, eh? Same logic should apply."

"But I haven't agreed."

"I'm asking you now, which is more choice than I had. Maybe you'll know what a working girl's life is like then, except you're lucky, because you'll only be a whore, you won't be a slave."

Law walked around and closer to Kid now, though he was still more than arm's length away, and Benn still stood behind the fiery pirate. Law was seething, Kid could see it, but collected, as well. Directed fury. He admired that.

"After you graduate, of course, you'll be a whore. Once a whore, always a whore, right? Anyone stronger than you will have a right to you. Anyone with the inclination that they'd like to fuck you should be allowed to do so. Sound fair?"

Law stood with his arms folded. Kid swallowed. Sounded like a shitty deal, but he recognized his own words and beliefs.

The dark-haired pirate pulled out the seat nearest to Kid, but not next to Kid and took a breath. He looked slightly softer. Part of why Kid so wanted him under him was that softness. Law pushed his forehead into the knuckles of his clasped hands.

"Kid," he looked across at Kid, who looked not in the least bit scared, but maybe a little bit uncomfortable, "I want you to think. I want you to feel how fucked up what you did is." The doctor's voice was like low rolling thunder. Not loud, but lightning always followed.

"It would be discreet," Shanks said, "Not our idea. Law is too kind, and don't you dare think that's because of you, Kid. It's probably just because you're not Doflamingo, _yet_."

Also, Law didn't want any excuse for anyone to pry into his life due to Eustass' crime against him.

"One month," said Marco, his mouth a thin line. It was taking all of his energy not to push this smug prick's face in on itself. "You'd be top shelf. It wouldn't get out. It doesn't mean you get to pick who wants to sleep with you. Some pretty perverted people up there on the top shelf."

Kid looked across at Law and expected him to be smirking, but his face looked sad, remembering those clients.

He roused himself out of it, and those grey eyes flickered his way. That conceited smile on his face now.

"Who knows? Maybe you'll like it, Kid. You might be a natural. There's money to be made, and we'll make sure Iva draws up a contract. You'll need to stay in the brothel, though. No freedom of movement, except in the house and gardens."

"Wha?"

"That's what servitude is. Lack of freedom"

"I don't serve anyone."

Law jerked his head at him. Exhaled. The only person Kid thought should be serving was him. Point noted and dismissed.

"The only people who know on your crew at the moment are Killer and Heat. I doubt you were as quiet with what you no doubt see as your exploits with me. Luffy will know, Zoro, the four marines at the party the other day will somehow find out, the four men here now, some of their crew, subordinates or connections. But that's it.

"Smoker _could_ have you arrested, and the marines are _very_ imaginative with their seastone. This way _some_ of your clients will show you respect. You'll learn new skills, Eustass, you'll be able to surprise your next lover, next fling, because I hope that's what it is, rather than a fucking rape and pillage." Law ran a hand at the back of his neck. The grazes there had mostly healed.

"We're pirates, it's what we do."

"What you do." Law's eyes flicked his way, he rubbed a knuckle against his temple, stood up and moved back toward Marco. Wanted to feel him near.

"I've done you no harm, Kid. I'm not responsible for finding out what kind of Neanderthal gene drives you. I've got good friends who care about me. Your logic obviously lies in your fucking dick, so I can't see this being a hardship. But, one month. See how it feels. It won't let you off the hook in any way. I _won't_ forget that you attacked me."

"Nor how it made you feel, right, sweetheart?"

Again the room bristled, and Law stood with clenched fists pushed down onto the table. He glared at Kid.

"Too damned right," he growled, and switched Eustass' ears around and back again, because he wanted him to hear properly. His face sardonic at the startled expression.

"It's on my list of worst life experiences, so if you're proud of that, there's not much I can do about it."

He glanced over to Marco, stoic at the head of the table, for a minute, then back to Kid.

"If you want to be placed out there with every fucked up marine, master and piece of shit that's made my life hell, we can arrange it. We're offering you a chance, Kid." Law sat.

Shanks stepped forward. He enjoyed blasting the boy with haki.

"You need to learn some manners, Kid. You might not think it, but Law's offer is pretty generous. We're not beating up that pretty face of yours, though we're itching to do so. You might have noticed."

Benn cracked his knuckles.

"You're going to walk out of here with your life, and not bow-legged, though that would be pirate justice, right? You're just being asked to spread your legs some, since you enjoy whoring around, and to reflect."

"And you get paid for it," Benn slapped him on the shoulder. "What could be a better proposal?"

"And . . . " Eustass was feeling really uncomfortable with this deal. He took. He didn't receive.

"We open up communication. We get Smoker and Tsuru off your tail. Luffy conducts business with you. And our associates."

It was what was needed to survive in the new world. The Kid pirates wouldn't go under. Wouldn't go rogue, if they agreed.

"Think of it as a challenge, Eustass." Law said flippantly. "I know you like those."

"Take off the seastone."

Law raised an eyebrow.

"I'd like to make my decision without it."

Law acquiesced and Benn undid the cuffs. Kid started to feel around for metal, especially that scalpel, Law's nodachi, and he was met with four blasts of haki. That one almost knocked him out of his chair.

"All right, all right. Just settle, will ya?" He raised his metal arm. "Can I consult with my crew?"

Law nodded. They huddled together and the room was maintained. He knew that much more discussion was needed to make a decision like that, but Eustass didn't have time, nor did he deserve that courtesy.

He'd made his decision to assault Law with no consultation, whatsoever. The nature of the beast where rape was concerned.

They'd ship Kid off next week if he agreed. Law wanted him to meet some of the assumptions he'd made, to run into them face first, or face down. That would be sweet. That would be a good form of revenge.

Ivanakov was scary enough that she'd keep him in place and from harassing the other workers. Maybe change would occur.

Shanks and Benn had promised to visit the whorehouse at the soonest opportunity.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Once they'd all gone, Benn, Shanks and Marco crowded Law and gave him the fiercest of hugs they could muster. "Masterful, Surgeon of Death." Shanks ruffled his hair and looked into Law's eyes. "You've come such a long way. That was decision-making fit for a king."

Law dropped his head slightly, blushing.

"Now you're shy?" Marco found his mouth and the two kissed deeply, Law pulled away laughing. Marco kissed him down his slender neck, Law's hands tangling in his lover's hair. The blond wanted to care those damn bruises away. Those shakes. Law was shaking under it all again, but it was a softer tremor. Not violent. He'd been steady as a rock throughout the meeting.

"That was so gratifying," Law grinned. They hadn't seen such a relaxed smile from him since the attack.

"Did you switch his fingers back?" asked Shanks.

"He'll be able to do himself once he's out of the Room."

"I still want to smash his face in." Benn lit up.

"We'll have a chance at some battle in the future."

"The battles are scarce on the ground nowadays." Shanks looked disappointed.

"Maybe that's a good thing."

"We'll be visiting remember?" The emperor's grin was evil.

"Are you okay, babe?"

Law turned back to Marco, pressed into him. Kissed his lover's jaw line. "Yeah." Felt Marco lift his shirt and place his hand on his back, warm, run his hand up the length of it.

"Brave guy," Shanks thumped him on the same back, Marco calling out in pain and Law put out a spare hand and drew him near.

"Thanks, Shanks," he said, broke away from Marco, gave the red haired captain a brief embrace of the sort Eustass craved, not lewd, but from love, and made sure that Benn was part of it too.

"Thanks, you guys. I couldn't have done it without you." Marco pulled him back again, arms over Law's chest. They were exclusive. Nibbled on his ear. Shanks was always up for anything.

"If Eustass messes with you, he messes with us too."

"Wish I could have done that to Doflamingo."

"Sick fuck would have liked it."

* * *

 **A/N: Next chapter** is the [second] last one. Thanks for those who've joined this meandering journey. Hope it hasn't been _too_ frustrating. Wonder if a Law x Marco interest will develop. :-) There's one fic out there that has them as friends. I enjoy reading that. **Thanks again** for all the readers, and for the people who commented, favourited and followed. I know the overall premise, pace and trajectory is flawed, _really._

 **Early** **comment answers** , **errr** , good points. There's one chapter to go (Edit: Two). Maybe Kid knows the best way to make the best of a bad situation. **Nothing explicitly bad** happens to him. He has a contract. It's for a month, and Iva isn't Doflamingo. It's not an ideal situation, though, of course. The last chapter is _not_ a nasty one. I feel there are a lot of fics playing loosely with ideas or permission out there, not labeled as such, and a lot more explicit than this one, though I know it has confronting scenes (all labelled). But, you are right. None of it is morally upright, and reactions to that are understandable. What would you have as Kid's karmic retribution?


	30. Ch 30 - The envelope, Law,Killer, Kid

**A/N: Okay, this is the penultimate chapter.** It was working it's way to 10K. Too much for one chapter, so I split it up. There's a little more.

 **Warnings:** Not much. Some mature themes. Some language

* * *

 **Chapter 30: Pushing the envelope: Law / Killer**

* * *

Killer tore the lemon couscous recipe from the magazine. Maybe Heat would like to try it. A woman on the opposite side of the room coughed noisily, and he was glad for his mask. A young boy stacked blocks and chattered to stuffed toys pulled out of the basket kept in the reception area. A worn-looking polar bear and a reindeer among them. Killer wondered what the Heart mink and Strawhat zoan thought of that.

An older woman, maybe the boy's grandmother, flipped through magazines as idly as Killer was, waiting along with everyone else in the surgery. The light relaxing scent of cypress and lavender suffused the room. He had an appointment, but wasn't injured nor sick, and was the last client on the list. Those who needed seeing to always took longer than anticipated.

By the time the last two clients left Law's office, a father and his daughter, her arm in a sling, and a happier expression on the face of both of them than when they'd gone in, Killer had learnt more than he needed to about how to lose weight, affairs of celebrities that put any pirate to shame, and the best heels to go with the latest glamorama frock.

The receptionist rang up the bill for the small family, the girl shyly reaching for one of the sweets kept in a bowl on the counter. Once they left, the assistant indicated that Killer could go through.

When they'd first encountered Law on Sabaody, there was some colour in his wardrobe other than bold lines to delineate his crew's symbols, and boy was that crew symbolled up. Though Heat gave them some competition.

The new world had seen the Heart captain's style change to the earth tones of black, black and black, those patterned jeans aside. Always with a little bit of Heart or crazy-as-fuck Jolly Roger hiding somewhere though. And there might be a touch of yellow worked through the hem, sewn into a cuff.

After raiding what he could of Brook's wardrobe on the Thousand Sunny all those years prior, shortly after his escape – the shrunken and the misguided that fit him – Law grew to like the simplicity of neutral colours for his jeans too. Neutral being black. Convict apparel was deliberately clownish, and extreme gaudiness was more in keeping with his enemies.

Once he caught up with the Heart pirates, and had access to the few clothes of his on the submarine, the patterned jeans occasionally made a reappearance. They reminded him of North Blue.

Killer's style had basically remained the same. Or his mask at least. His actual dress had become more casual. More for ease of movement than anything. His hair was slightly shorter, but he still liked to keep it long. It was tied up more often nowadays, for convenience.

He only just now noticed the few specks of silver in Law's black mess as he spied the doctor sitting at his desk, finishing paper work.

The brunet moved his head from side to side, trying to work out a few cricks from his neck. He turned and looked up as the Kid pirate knocked on the door, and gestured for him to come in. Huh, glasses. How about that?

It had been about five weeks. Kid had stayed with Ivankov beyond the end of the month. He didn't have to. He was free to go.

"Killer-ya. I don't think you want me as your physician." Elbows on the arms of the chair, forearms foremost, and fingers inked, Law swivelled his chair slightly in the blond's direction.

Killer took a seat on a long padded couch toward the back of the surgery. He guessed it was for worried parents, grandparents and guardians to sit on and fret while Law saw to their charges. Another chair stood just to the side of the desk where Law sat, and an examination table to the right of that.

Killer stretched his arms along the leather back of the seat, his muscles filling out his t-shirt. He leaned his head back minimally. Both men knew it was an action that could intimidate, though that wasn't Killer's intent.

"Why not? I hear you're good."

Law wasn't sure how to take that. His eyes narrowed slightly. He remained silent. Killer checked himself on his wording. Innocent enough, but in the light of things.

"I came to thank you."

It had been a long day. Law wanted to wind up his tasks and get home. There was a fugly rescue dog at the house that needed a walk. He removed his glasses and put them in their case on the desk. He rubbed his eyes. Looked back over at Killer, and tilted his head in query.

"For not breaking his spirit."

Law let out a sigh. Sat back in his chair. Turned it to the table. Put the pen he'd been holding on its surface, near his glasses. His long legs pushed before him.

"Can anyone break Eustass' spirit?" His back was to Killer.

"Perhaps," Killer said. "And to apologise for him. I came to do that too. There are no excuses."

The doctor's shoulders tensed, and he made himself breath out. Killer heard the expulsion, and watched the surgeon's back work out a few knots, and his neck seemed to elongate as he deliberately loosened his upper body, isolating the muscles.

If Law were the kind of man to brawl in his own practice, and stupid enough to take on Killer without the use of his powers, the Massacre soldier might think he was limbering up. But Trafalgar had no fight with him, and they both knew it.

What was the excuse for Kid not being able to express his own contrition? Law wondered. If he had any. He linked his fingers and put his hands behind his head, stared out the window.

He wanted a nice view for the kids who came in, or anyone really. A visit to the doctor could be frightening, but his clinic was in the poorer part of town, so his window looked out to the corner of the neighbouring building. However, the view then broke off to a park in the distance. He saw a couple of kids kicking a ball around. You wouldn't know the ocean was so near, except to smell the salt in the air.

Law didn't reply to Killer's courtesy. He didn't know what to say. He liked the man, but his loyalty was both puzzling and admirable. Having broken from indoctrinated allegiance himself, he knew it was possible, though not everyone had a Cora in their life. Obviously Kid had many commendable traits, just not where Law was concerned.

He heard Killer stand up, his footsteps cross the surgery, walking toward the door.

"Thanks," the dark-haired man said, still staring at the window, deadpan. Some of Kid's words rebounded through his mind, spinning like the boast of a wrongly angled squash ball. He concentrated on the boys playing soccer, all the patients he'd just treated.

The blond stopped for a second, and then exited. It wasn't Killer's fault. It was polite to say something, but Law still wasn't sure if it was the wisest of moves to let Kid live.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Kid was confused. The first week was spent in the garden. The garden he was restricted to, supposedly. The garden with the gardener. A crusty old man, an ex-slave.

The captain was allowed regular breaks, worked an eight-hour day, was trusted not to escape, and they hadn't actually shackled him. He and the old man took mikan from the trees, and ate as they worked, with no negative consequences.

At first he thought he'd take off the first opportunity he got. If he'd actually been forced to be with anyone like Arlong or Crocodile, he didn't know what he'd do. It was one thing to be the one chasing his desires.

But then, they hadn't taken away his powers. With his fruit, he'd be a match for them at least, or if anyone like that turned up. Maybe not a match, but he'd have a chance.

Heat and Killer had contact with him. That was a surprise, that they were allowed to. They said that Smoker had been seen in the area. Law was tight with him. Maybe he'd been sent to observe. Was just waiting for him to make a break for it.

As he lay down mulch, or pruned back fruit trees under the old codger's instruction, he took note of the clients who came throughout the day.

Most looked like your regular Joe, but there were a few who put a shiver down his spine. If he could use his powers, no problem. They wouldn't touch him. They wouldn't even get close. For most of them he wouldn't even need that, but you could never tell who had an ability or not.

On his last day in the garden, he enjoyed a sandwich, and a cup of tea from the flask the old man always brought with him. A ladybird landed on grandpa's shirt and crawled under his sleeve as they took their break in a small arbor. No matter how hot it got, the gardner wore a long sleeved shirt, and never rolled the material back. Kid wore a light cotton t-shirt for the garden, and that soaked through with sweat half an hour after they started work.

Dexterous, despite hands gnarled with age, the old coot undid the buttons of his shirt cuffs, and lifted the material slightly so the ladybird could fly away, free to hoover up any aphids that landed on the plants.

Kid eyed the indentations in his skin near the wrists, similar to Law's own. Evidence of having been continually shackled for some time. He didn't let on, and the man was unaffected as he re-buttoned the cuff, pulled down the sleeve so his wrist was covered, and bit into his sandwich.

They fed him well. In the evening, he watched television with those who had a day off or were waiting for a client. Moderate drinking was allowed, and so he drank. No-one had so much as laid a finger on him. It was freaking him out, but he stuck around _because_ no-one had. What was Law's game?

 **XXX**

Ivankov's workers crossed all genders, but were mostly female. In the second week Kid was put to work with the housekeeping crew, doing laundry, turning the beds, vacuuming the floors, putting out new linen. He wondered when he would have to be under the covers, rather than smoothing them. _As if he'd let that happen_ , but he guessed when that time came, he'd fight and be on the lookout for seastone.

The few girls that were free asked him who he was, where he was from. It seemed only Ivankov had any idea of what he might be there for. They were friendly. He was sent out to get lunch. No cuffs. No escort.

He returned with the food and snacks for all, and with their change. All fifteen varieties of soft drink and teas that were requested. And he was getting paid for this? His punishment was to be a gofer?

 **XXX**

The third week he was in the office, helping out with the books. He preferred tinkering with cars and machines, but he was practical when it came to money, and he saw just how much of it passed hands in this industry.

All weeks had kept him busy, but the third week was perhaps the most taxing, as he helped and shadowed the accountants figuring out the wages, working out the profit, deciding where to invest, and what needed to be put aside for maintenance.

"What's up?" he asked Ivankov one night when she came to talk to him. "They told me I'd be working here."

He even had his own room. Simple, plain, but his. No outside lock on the door, though he could lock himself in. No-one had bothered him while he slept, though he did make sure to latch the door before he turned in for the night.

"Aren't you?"

"I mean, I expected this to be one of the worst experiences of my life."

He knew he'd hurt Law. You do bad, you pay the consequences, or escape them, and you do bad again. He really had to cut down on his drinking, but he took from others when sober too. He had a reputation to maintain, and if one supernova couldn't protect himself against another, was anything that happened really Kid's fault? Could the defeated really claim to be part of the Worst Generation? Though maybe that was a thing of the past. The Worst Generation. Surely they'd been replaced by now. By what? The Most Worstest Generation?

"You've still got a week to go," the brothel owner said, patted his cheek, and stood to leave his room. "But know this. I take care of my staff, Kid. Everyone's equal."

 **XXX**

The fourth week they used him for his muscle. It felt like coming home. The workers, sat outside with him, taking a break, between clients, having a smoke, telling stories. So many were ex-slaves. The guard he worked with, too, Jerry. The nasty marks around his neck were from an exploding collar. Others, like Kid himself, were from families that could hardly qualify as such.

They spoke well of the revolutionary, said she ran a fair brothel, supported the workers. Being employed here was a thousand steps up from the unfair contracts they'd endured, and hellholes they'd been in before – some that they'd been forced to work in. For many, it was Ivankov and Dragon who'd got them out.

A great number of the workers had been born into slavery, or escaped from the sex trafficking trade, or both. Unlike Law, they hadn't been trained up in anything else.

They were always free to leave, and were paid fairly, so it was a possibility, but confidence and gaining skills was another thing. They asked Kid why he was there.

"Learning the ropes."

 **XXX**

On the second day of the fourth week, a shriek lanced the general low-level hum of the brothel, and a button buzzed and lit up in the security centre, showing one of the workers had hit an alarm, and the corresponding room number. Kid followed his burly co-worker in racing up the stairs to the second floor, two steps at a time, where they located the room and pushed the door open, slamming it into the wall behind it.

Had Kid worn that expression? He saw a well-toned businessman, entitlement all over his face. He'd pushed one of the girls to her knees, and had a knife trained at her throat, a slight trickle of blood from a gash meandered down her skin. The red mark across her face indicated she'd been slapped, punched perhaps? He knew the woman. She had a three year-old her grandmother took care of when she was working.

The brothel wasn't an innocent place. What brothel ever was? And _if_ the workers agreed to it, there was a range of services offered. This girl _had not_ agreed to rough sex at knifepoint, despite the brand Kid saw seared in the middle of her back. It didn't turn him on, and he swung both ways.

The guard stormed the client, kicked the knife out of his hand and pushed him out the door, grabbing his jacket from a nearby table top as he went.

The client was shouting about having paid and being able to take what he wanted. She was used to it. She'd been trained for it.

The redhead's help wasn't needed to subdue him, so Kid picked up the woman's robe from the bed and helped her to her feet.

"Arsehole," she snarled, meaning the guy. She tied the robe, and ran a hand down her throat, smearing blood. She seemed tough and calm, and she was, all in a day's work, but this was obviously not part of her job description. Getting Hurt. Killed. How could it be justified?

"Okay?"

She looked up at the huge redhead. Who was he? Well, she always trusted Ivankov's judgment.

"Thanks, hon. Some of them see a slave and think they can do whatever they want."

He left the room, and returned with antiseptic and plasters for the slight nick.

"Ex-slave," he said, as he pressed the plaster to her neck, glad the knife hadn't gone deeper.

 **XXX**

On his last day, Shanks and Benn visited. Ivankov asked him to serve drinks, then invited him to join them. Everyone was tense, but Kid most of all. Heat and Killer had been able to visit a couple of nights ago. They'd played cards, and drank moderately, and it left him wondering again just what the fuck kind of punishment was this?

But wait, were these, the Red-haired pirates, were _they_ the top shelf perverts who were going to tear him apart, break him? Why hadn't he got himself the hell out of here before this? Could he handle that? Did he want it? Could they actually do that? Would Ivankov let them? Was it part of the agreement?

Sure, he'd badmouthed Law, and done far worse, but when the actuality, the possibility of someone with so much power and strength dominating him loomed, he had to say it didn't feel comfortable, and Law _was_ practically their family.

Four different-sized cups, for different purposes, sat on the tray. Benn wanted coffee, and it came in a no-frills mug of solid red.

Shanks took English tea, and the Earl Grey was served in a frilled, flowered Wedgewood design, with a matching saucer. The porcelain quick to heat and thin to the touch.

Iva's Turkish coffee was in a small cup about four times the size of a thimble; red with a gold gilt mouth, and also with its own matching saucer, half the size of Shanks'.

Kid drank green tea from an uneven rounded cup, hand-thrown, the grip smoothed into the curve of the clay, matching the arc of his hand.

Benn sat back quietly. Kid remembered the forced kiss he'd been met with at the meeting. The punch to his gut. Was that the extent of the unpleasantness, or was it a taste of things to come?

Shanks stirred some sugar into his tea.

"Still here, Kid?"

Kid just looked at him, bewildered. Took a sip of his ocha. It was too hot.

"Like it?"

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Nothing's happened."

"You've been treated well?" Benn asked, drawing back on a cigarette, it was a brothel, Ivankov had smoking and non-smoking areas.

His coffee was good. He took a sip after exhalation, and swirled it in his mouth before swallowing. He glanced out the windows.

"Nice grounds, wouldn't you say? Very relaxing." The gardener was out there, clipping the grass.

Kid's face was a ball of confusion.

"What the fuck man? You've come to make my nightmares a reality?"

Shanks inclined his head, but didn't say anything. It seemed fair. He reflected on the few nightmares he'd witnessed drag Law under on the rare occasion he fell asleep on the deck of the Red Force. He wondered if Kid's dreams compared.

"Ivankov wouldn't let us do anything to a worker against their will," Benn scratched at his arm. "Thank the good doctor for sending you here and not Impel Down."

He glanced at Kid, choosing _not_ to conceal his contempt, before returning his attention to his coffee.

Or any of the other low-life, soul-destroying houses of ill-repute the workers had told him about. He could have chosen those too. He had the contacts. He'd probably even worked there, been lent out to them. Inwardly, Kid heaved a sigh of relief. Was that really it? How soft _was_ the surgeon?

It wasn't like Kid had never knocked about with those who'd _been_ knocked about by life, that basically _was_ his life, but he always viewed them as too weak to change their circumstances, especially when he'd been able to claw his way through. If he could, why couldn't they? Therefore, those who got beaten were fair game. Whether born there, felled or fallen.

"I really don't want to touch him, Benn."

Shanks' eyes traced Kid's perplexed form as he sat in the salon, his giant hand and robotic appendage around his mug.

Maybe that sense of relief had been premature. He pulled himself tall for a second, thinking, Why not? He was a good looking man with a body to die for, and he'd heard Shanks was the more adventurous of the two. Before realising that the emperor's fake revulsion could be his ticket out, and his attention was _not_ something he wanted.

"You can watch," Benn said, and Kid's stomach plummeted.

"Hold on . . ."

"Meet any nice people?" Shanks cut him off.

Kid nodded.

"So, you've been a whorehouse employee for a month. Trained up in one. People treat you like you treat whores?"

Kid took up all the space around him. No way would he appear whipped.

"He treats my workers very well," Ivankov said, the strongest brew in the tiniest cup, seeming even more minuscule in her mighty hands.

"Is that so?"

Kid didn't answer. He somehow thought he was in the principal's office, but maybe this principal had some idea of justice that Eustass hadn't quite figured out yet.

It wasn't automatic expulsion and all future opportunities being closed off. _Not_ being told he was useless and would amount to nothing. Was he being given a chance? Was that surgeon crazy? Was he going to be left alone with these two? _Did_ that surgeon desire him? Was that why he was being given a chance? Jesus, why couldn't they have just fought it out? Because he would have won of course. Talk about mind games.

Shanks put down the delicate tea cup. He'd drained the beverage. It was good. Steeped just so.

"Did you make this?" he asked Kid. The younger man shook his head. He'd just put in the orders and gathered them from the kitchen.

"Shame. It was very good." He turned to their host, "Thank you, Iva." With a nod at his grey-haired lover, the two stood. The revolutionary had height on them all. The ceilings in the brothel were monumentally tall, but Benn still made Kid feel like a pipsqueak.

The younger redhead swallowed. He started to use his powers. Shanks was strong, but Kid was taller. That had to work to his advantage. It had with Law.

"Relax," Shanks said, stilling his sword from where it had been trying to leave its scabbard. Kid had attracted Iva's teaspoon. "You've lasted four weeks. It's a little less than a month, but who's counting? Well done. You're free to go. Our people have been talking with Killer. Most communication channels are open."

"Law?"

There was no light in Benn's eyes. That _would_ be his first question. Or maybe it was natural.

"You have any need to speak to him, you go through us." He readjusted the flintlock he carried. Interesting ability Kid had. He spoke casually, but Kid knew not to question his words.

"Off limits." Shanks said.

"This was his idea?"

Benn nodded. "You're lucky we weren't in charge." He eyed his gun again, and Shanks stood back so his sword came into view. Though it was decoration really, considering his other strengths. There were a thousand ways to skin a cat if you were strong enough to be a yonkou.

Kid swallowed. He had been lucky. Why the fuck would the surgeon do that? He could presume attraction all he liked, but fundamentally he knew that was mostly bluster and rationalisation on his part. If he bothered to reflect. Which really wasn't part of his general make-up.

"You met some nice people then?"

"I told you."

"Well then. See you round, Kid," and Shanks walked forward and put his one arm on Kid's and sent a blast of haki through it that had his blood roiling. The emperor let out a laugh at his fellow redhead's discomfort, linked his arm through Beckman's, and the two men strolled out of the room.

Kid turned to Ivankov, totally confused.

"You did get lucky." Ivanakov remembered the lackadaisical surgeon facing down all of the women of Amazon Lily as he shrugged off his reasons for helping Luffy. Yet, help him he did. "Don't screw it up."

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Eighteen months later, Killer waited in the surgery. A different variety of coughs and squawks kept rhythm with the season. Killer didn't learn anything new from the magazines he leafed through, but the celebrity faces had changed.

Law walked out of his office, casual in jeans and a t-shirt. It was a dryer season, and a little cool. Sneakers instead of the warmer season sandals.

A fugly short-haired dog trotted by his side, nails clicking on the floor. Mostly black, of course. All pointy-eared and barrel-chested. Marco had dropped her off on the way to open the bar. The doctor didn't seem any friendlier, Killer noted, but this wasn't a social call.

"This is Misery." Law said, grabbing some plastic bags from the receptionist's desk for waste. "Join us for a walk?"

Well named, Killer thought. Maybe it could be used as an alternative for the po-faced Heart pirate captain too.

"She's actually very sweet, but she's a rescue, so she sticks close, and worries easily. She's scared of loud noises. Hides under the bed during thunder storms."

Or not so po-faced. Killer took in the small smile the doctor had for the dog. Law handed him the leash as he locked up.

The Kid pirate wondered how much those tattoos scared his patients, but he heard that the prices were low, and Law treated those others wouldn't, so maybe it didn't bother them so long as they got the attention they needed.

The receptionist had gone home when the last patient left, about fifteen minutes prior. Misery sniffed Killer's fingers and gave them a tentative lick. He jumped at the sensation. The dog leaned into his legs.

Law took the leash from him, and they set off down the road, toward the park that could be seen from his office windows. The dog's tail, upright, wagged back and forth.

"You like dogs, Killer?"

The blond shrugged.

"There's a few to be euthanised tomorrow at the shelter. I'm sure you'd be a great owner. Responsible"

He nodded this time, without commitment.

Once at the park, Law let Misery off the leash. She zoomed away with a quick bark and promptly returned, before running off again.

Law and Killer sat on a bench and the doctor kept an eye on the dog, smiling as she rolled around on the grass, hoping it _was_ only grass that had caught her attention. It was a bitch to wash her, and he'd done so only last week.

"You wanted to see me."

Killer nodded. He glanced at the doctor taking in the park, supervising his pet from a distance, and then dug into the messenger bag strapped over his body.

"For you." Killer pulled out an A4 envelope and passed it across. Law looked at it with surprise before taking it.

"What?"

Shanks and Benn kept communication open with the Kid Pirates when necessary. Law tried to keep focused on his own here and now, his own future, and left any dealings up to them. If his input was needed on something directly relating to Kid and his crew, and there was very little reason for that to occur, it usually got filtered through Marco.

He'd had vicious nightmares after the meeting at their house with Kid, his first mate and Heat. They weren't sure of the triggers, and Law wasn't convinced that experimenting to isolate them was worth the pain he'd potentially go through, so Marco acted as a gatekeeper. Killer wasn't one of the sparks. So far.

"Open it."

From his days of running contraband for Domflamingo and his own illicit pirate practices, he knew it contained money. You could feel from the heft.

"Are you setting me up, Killer? Some cops or marines hiding in the bushes?" He looked out at the nearby foliage, and then across at the blond, who sat with his impressive arms folded. If you asked Killer, Law looked like your neighbourhood drug dealer, not practitioner, with those tatts and dark smudges under his eyes, the earrings and all black outfits. Then again, he knew he drew more than his fair share of stares as well.

"It was your idea to come to the park."

Couldn't argue with that logic.

Misery raced up with a stick. Law put the envelope to the side, and wrestled her for it. Of course he had to win, or she'd have nothing to chase. He sent it flying across the grass. The stocky cattle dog bitzer hurtled after it.

Like Zoro, she had only one working eye. Like Zoro, she usually made her target. Law wiped the goo from the stick onto his jeans.

"Open it," Killer repeated.

Law picked the envelope up again and eased back the seal. There was a lot of cash in there. A lot. He put the envelope back on his lap for a second. Was he being bought off? What for?

"There's a note."

There was? He eased the flap open again, pulled it out, scanned it, and then read it out loud.

 _Yo! Use this for losers like yourself. Help them out. K?_ E.K.

Law looked across at Killer, then took stock of himself, identifying all of his emotions and reactions and registering that none of them were panic. He guessed loser was an improvement on Kid's usual endearments. Not only did he know how to show Law a good time, his way with words swept him off his feet. Or he actually had done that, and the end result . . . ah, he didn't want to think about it.

Misery returned with the stick, and Killer leant this time to take and throw it. Her tail stuck straight up, and whipped back and forth like a metronome in the throes of a heart attack. It was a mighty throw. Law hoped she didn't get distracted on her way to fetch it. Killer also wiped dog saliva on the cloth of his jeans. Ugh. He'd thought the surgeon was meticulous and paranoid about germs.

"What's this about?" Law asked, passing the note to Killer.

* * *

 **A/N: So,** as said, I wasn't able to make this the last chapter. The next one should be, if not, the one after. Just depends on the word count.

 **Taranis K:** thank you for your lovely review and support.

 **errrrr:** thank you for your feedback and your salient points. I responded to your comment at the end of chapter29.

 **Thank you** to everyone who has read and continues to read this fic.


	31. Chapter 31 - Of Ancestors and Epilogues

**A/N** : No warnings.

* * *

 **Chapter 31 - Ancestors / Epilogue**

* * *

Kid, ever the businessman, and always more comfortable on the slightly more crooked side of life, learnt the business under Ivankov. Not literally. He bought in, and became co-owner of the brothel, soon renamed _Kid's Kittens_.

The revolutionary saw the advantages. Kid had his own contacts, but more so, he had financial and mechanical brains and brawn where it counted. She'd wanted to ease up on her own responsibilities for some time, and welcomed the interest. Law knew that much. It had been fast.

Once Kid's month's training was up and he was free to go, he chose to stay on, seeing as pirates were going the way of the Dodo, but whorehouses would always be frequented. He saw an opportunity and took it, learning the books further, the muscle and all types of laundering.

After Ivankov accepted him and his offer, Killer, Heat and his crew provided extra protection, and ran other rackets; craps and live music nights, invested in the illicit that still thrived, even under a fairer government. Kid himself was just, though, at least where brothel staff was concerned.

Workers functioned better when they felt secure. What he could keep legit, he did. He treated them well, providing job security, cleanliness and safety. Maybe more than he had ever done for his own crew when they sailed the seas. Then again, they could all fight for themselves, and if they couldn't, they didn't make the grade.

No-one was allowed to hurt any of his workers for any reason in the way that Ivankov had ensured the same for Kid. In the way that Law had, though he never publicly acknowledged that. Hell, he wasn't even sure if he could admit it personally.

There was no way he would have granted the Heart Captain the same kind of clemency if their positions had been reversed. Not that they ever could be, Kid scoffed to himself, sitting back, pleased with his rapidly growing empire.

Part of his earnings went to Law though. Every month. Kid's idea, though that also was never made explicit. After hearing the stories of the workers when employed alongside them, even if not in entirely the same capacity, he wanted the doctor to channel it into some kind of system for those escaping and recovering from fucked up situations. The kinds of situations he'd helped create, that he'd witnessed in the dingy side-alleys and back corners of his childhood. Maybe they wouldn't end up at _Kid's Kittens_ if they knew there was somewhere to go _._ The brothel's environment was good, for what it was, but it wasn't the only nor the most ideal opportunity in life.

Law couldn't refuse. It was too much money, and the cause too close to his own heart. Was it blood money? Not from what Ivankov had told him. He called Chopper and put in motion plans to open a sexual assault crisis centre, developing later into a retreat for longer recovery, and maybe a few more trauma centres.

Kid promised, through Killer, that the money would come through for as long as the brothel was open, and Law invested some of it wisely, so that the project could get off the ground, and the centres remain operational in the future. So they didn't have to be dependent on Eustass in the long run.

They negotiated so that traceable transfers rather than huge wads of cash passed hands, ensuring that either party remained transparent. The last thing Law wanted was for the centres to collapse in on themselves due to mismanagement, or for a return to incarceration, for whatever reason, for himself.

Establishing them the first year saw Law at the bar a lot less, and burning the midnight oil when Marco closed shop for the night. That was nothing new really.

Sometimes there'd be a full house. A full snoring house. Chopper was the medical expertise, and Penguin led the team. He'd guided Law through some of his blackest days, after all, though all the staff got trained up.

Men had difficulty coming forward, and the centres treated all kinds of trauma for anyone, but they spread the word that they especially had support for those who identified as male.

Along with all the flyers for the up and coming bands, and people looking for flatmates, Law left pamphlets at the bar, and at his practice, of course. They let other health, psychological and pastoral care providers in the area know about the service.

Penguin and Shachi had grown tired of running their own bar, and along with Bepo, they jumped at the challenge. They were medically trained, after all. It wasn't fair that only the captain got to continue his trade.

Chopper was all kinds of empathetic, and funnily enough, tough when needed. Robin ran a gallery on the island one across, and she also put in hours, the female face for those who needed that, which were many. Her gallows humour was perfect for those who despised pity, but so badly needed support and understanding. The reindeer and bear were soothing presences for anyone wandering in and seeking someone to listen to them, and their physical strength came in handy at times.

Law remained away for the most part after the initial set up, mostly happy to work at his own practice, and to help out in the bar, though he could be good in cases of extreme trauma, mostly because of his _room_ ability and past experience. He used _room_ to calm clients or if they struck out, as they often did.

There were methods, tried and true, which he used to make them feel less vulnerable, to encourage ownership, and to help others feel safe around them, to help them feel safe around others.

As the centres became solvent, he employed more mental health experts in the field. There was the occasional nightmare for him though. The triggers weren't easily identifiable, so he limited his contact time.

Did he ever get an apology? He never did, though by proxy, both Killer and Heat saw him now and then and expressed regret at their captain's behaviour. Even so, Eustass' donations, and recompense helped keep the clinics running.

Law never lost his unwanted and undeserved reputation, though it did fade, get buried, and lend weight to his philanthropic interests. He still sometimes ran across creeps and the curious who wanted him to either bare his past, or himself, and he put a quick stop to either situation in non-negotiable terms. Except if it were an agreed upon interview.

Kid was the most fabulous and infamous madam of the new world, second only to Ivankov. That maybe added more weight when funding sources were revealed. He was _not_ shy of the limelight, though he glossed over his own indiscretions, which was probably wise.

No doubt there was some PR and universal tale of forgiveness and redemption in telling the story behind why Kid and Law worked together, but Law couldn't find it within himself to be that generous.

Law and his associates still weighed up each event carefully if the doctor, or even Marco, had to be in the same room as Kid.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Luffy and Zoro were fair rulers. The new World Government worked in conjunction with the pirate king, and the heads of the underworld. Although dubious practice could never be completely erased, it became better regulated, causing less harm to the innocent.

Some practices to which the prior government had turned a blind eye, such as the slavery that entrapped Law and so many others, were eliminated once the World Nobles lost their standing as a privileged class.

Like Law and Marco, the Strawahat captain and his first mate also kept a number of dogs, usually after receiving a call from the Heart pirate or from Marco on his behalf, detailing how a tough and loyal mongrel they had (Law had) come across was set to be euthanised the following day. Cute could be part of the vocabulary.

Nami, Usopp, Chopper, Robin, Sanji, Franky, Brook, Shachi, Penguin, Shanks and Benn knew that when the surgeon called them – because when did he ever call half of them? – there'd be a four-legged addition to either their family or that of their friends. The marines were not immune to his entreaties either.

The Phoenix and Heart went through a number of beloved dogs. Law's favourite was Misery, though there was always enough love for the saddest, ugliest and most neglected canine from the animal shelter to find refuge in their home.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Luffy visited Law one summer afternoon, the seagulls squawking overhead and the sky blue. Misery was still alive, and she definitely loved company, especially that of the happy-go-lucky captain, and sat on his feet. Luffy scratched behind her ears.

Benn, Shanks and Marco had been gone for a month. Zoro had joined them.

As the younger man drank soda, and Law sipped on a beer, Luffy shuffled beads, similar to the ones that Ace used to wear around his neck, in his hands. The beads were charcoal-black, made of lava rock. They'd accompanied a Daily Coo, along with a note from Zoro and the other three men.

Law had received a separate note from the Phoenix. It was folded and in his pocket now.

Akainu had been an old man, and he lived his exile at the same level of anger as when he was in power. He had no regret, for killing Ace, wounding Luffy and assaulting Law. And countless others.

He had many wishes though, prime among them that he'd stayed in power long enough, and Doflamingo and Vergo alive, so that he could inflict his most perverse punishment upon the Hearts Captain, and witness and inflict absolute justice on both captains. Stewing away in his own volcanic juices, he suffered terribly from ulcers.

Garp had helped the four men. Sengoku too. Sengoku's goat was rumoured to have been sent in first, a fine dusting of seastone over its hair, which it either had been trained to shake all over Akainu, as if shaking water from its hide, or that Akainu petted. He had a soft spot for animals.

Maybe without the unofficial help of the two ex-admirals, the four wouldn't have been able to approach, though Shanks had stopped Akainu before. Not in enough time to save Ace though.

Law was pleased to hear that his end was swift. The more drawn out anything was, the more likely survival.

Luffy wouldn't have been able to finish him, though he wanted him gone. Able to forgive nearly anyone, Akainu was the exception, but the pirate king didn't want to be the one to deliver the finishing blow, just in case he couldn't.

Kizaru, curious sociopath that he was, had attempted over the years to hold dialogue with Law. The ex-admiral had heard he was a mean chess player and could hold quite the philosophical debate.

Kizaru was able to let go of the past, in an instant, once it stopped interesting him, so he couldn't understand why the dark-haired pirate couldn't also.

Law rejected all overtures, and wondered a little that the ex-admiral wasn't on the hit list. Then again, he was responsible for grievous injury, not death, but the injury really was grievous. His back and memories still bore witness. When was death justified?

Kizaru's acceptance back into the world government wasn't necessarily contingent on whether he'd treated an outlaw well or not, as that had been before the outlaw, Luffy, had became crucial to the workings of the current government.

In consultation with Luffy, Fujitora, Smoker, Tsuru and Aokiji (who had returned to the marines) allowed Kizaru very limited access to power and privilege. He had a brilliant mind and was used for his strategic and analytical skills.

Law was given permission to take his heart as an assurance, as some form of reparation, and once a year, on the anniversary of his escape, he gave it a squeeze, for old time's sake, until over the years he grew disinterested, having so many other things he wanted to learn and obsess about. So many more things to grow and walk and heal.

Kizaru was hardly worth the time, though Marco tickled the heart occasionally, still furious at the men whose actions helped take the lives of Whitebeard and Ace, and who'd tortured Law.

The doctor knew it wasn't pleasant to live without a heart beating away inside. The fear that someone would abuse it being the most uncomfortable aspect, the discomfort paling in comparison only when someone did actually abuse it, like Vergo had his own at Punk Hazard. Maybe he'd give it back to the man in his dying days.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

The living room of their house on the hill was now wall-to-wall with tea towels, the (at the time) newly crowned Pirate King towel, adorned with Ace's buttons, still holding pride of place, and Brook next to it.

Brook's first stop, whenever he visited, was to gaze at the rendition of himself with awe. It went without saying that he was cool, but he liked to bask in his own glory. It had paid off to gift the surgeon that fluffy sweater all those years before.

Bepo's marriage was _the_ marriage of the new era. Bordered by garlands and representations of elephant dung, the Polar bear was the centrepiece of the tea-towel that marked his nuptials, arms around his adorable mink bride, flower wreaths on their heads. That had been a fun wedding. Pedro officiated.

Law and Marco produced their own towels yearly to commemorate the crisis centres and retreat as part of a fundraising drive. Chopper was always front and centre. He was cute and unthreatening.

The ones featuring Shachi and Penguin didn't sell anywhere near as well, though Law was fond of them. Bepo's were all limited edition, and top dollar was paid for them. Just one sold could pay for a month of wages.

The featureless wall Law had stared at way in the past, ruminating a few days after Kid's attack, was now also covered. Marco was right. What was the point of keeping the cloths all tucked away in his _tansu_ like a home-keeper poring over her hand stitched kimono? At least he hadn't taken up hanging finished jigsaws on the wall. Yet. He heard it staved off Alzheimer's.

There was the towel for Tashigi and Smoker's wedding – Law had been best man. Chase had looked so handsome and uncomfortable in that damn suit. And the Christmas one Sengoku had sent of his goat. When it was the actual year of the goat, the old man went batshit crazy. He was just waiting for one to spotlight the ex-admiral's gorilla friend from Dressrosa.

Only swords featured on the cloth celebrating the equal first of the world's greatest swordsmen, though there was a tiny ghoul twirling an umbrella in the corner. Perona had commissioned that. Next year, maybe there would be only three swords belonging to one person as the design.

The anniversary towel marking thirty-years of Benn and Shanks together (they had met when very young) was framed by a series of romantic red noses. A Buggy request.

There was the opening of the second Baratie, the map of the new world, more submarines from Franky, and gruesome dishcloths detailing God Usopp's exploits as one of the bravest most fearsome fighters in the world. Usopp commissioned most of those, the Tonatta responsible for the rest.

Law always knew when Robin had been thinking about them. All the tea towels would be rearranged, except for Brook and Luffy's. She'd put Zoro's next to Sanji's – she was so cheeky. And Law would cop shit if he didn't notice and either man visited.

She'd turn the Kid ones to face the wall. Yes, there were Kid ones. His brothel sold them as a fund raising venture to support the centres Law trusted Chopper and Penguin to run. Though he and Marco never selected the ones which featured Kid, and there were plenty of those, the company name, _Kid's Kittens_ , made it obvious who had sponsored the design.

Law and Marco kept them in a corner, not highlighted, but they were conflicted whether to display them at all.

When it boiled down to it, the most important thing for Law was the centres staying operational, he was proud of the work they did; it was necessary, and the kitten designs were a sure-fire cash cow.

He didn't know if Robin's actions helped or hindered his own journey through life. It depended on the day.

He'd walked into the room once when she must have sent ten pairs of arms to rearrange things. That was both fascinating and spooky. They'd shooed him away and he'd gladly left. He always enjoyed catching up with her though, and one pair of arms had hugged him fiercely before he left the room. The disembodied arms placed a palm on his cheek, which he placed his own hand against briefly.

He knew Robin could feel it when her devil's fruit appendages were touched. He imagined her quiet smile. Slightly different from the bemused one he knew she was wearing, imagining the small chaos she was creating.

Whichever dog they had went crazy if it came across them, until the hands located their weak spot, and scritched them until they drooled with pleasure.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Law and Marco were intent on living to a ripe old age, having learnt and already inherited the secret of a healthy and sexy longevity in the form of both of their devil fruits, and advice from Dr. Kureha. Though, they'd also cut their lifespans short a couple of times, but they didn't dwell on that.

Kureha clued them into the sexy part, her advice being, never act your age. Law had _never_ acted his age, but that meant he was one hundred when he was seven. Marco figured that wasn't quite what she meant, and teased his Nana Law about it until he laughed in a way that instantly knocked off a few years.

Her next-most listened to recommendation was to party hard and enjoy yourself, but she still adhered to a healthy diet, like Law and Marco, along with copious consumption of hard liquor, unlike Law and Marco, though they had their moments. Her seniority was perhaps reciprocal to her alcohol consumption.

Every morning, one or the other knelt on the tatami in the one room that featured it, and lit the incense on the small altar shelf they kept there. Once a week they replaced the small bowl of sake, and the flowers in the vase, that honoured their ancestors and loved ones.

Through Sengoku and Luffy, Law now had photos of Cora and his own Flevance family which they kept near the _Butsudan_. A traditional no-no, but who gave a fuck? No-one on this island, that's for sure. Records had been _scoured_ to get them, and Law wasn't going to hide them away.

Marco had initiated that process, and it meant so much to Law that he had pictures he could pick up and reflect on, though did they ever capture the true nature of the person? Did he even know what that was, having lost everyone when he was so young?

Another day, he and Zoro acted as mediators between Luffy and the Phoenix as they sorted pictures of Ace, choosing one to sit beside Cora, Lamie and Law's parents.

For Whitebeard, the doctor approved of whichever picture Marco liked best. There had really been no need to consult him, but he was honoured that his lover included him in the process.

* * *

 **XXXX**

* * *

Marco and Law squatted outside their house. The air thick, the sky blue, as usual. Both wore flip-flops and cotton to beat the humidity. A towel hung around the Phoenix's neck. He lifted its edges and wiped sweat from his brow.

Torn up papers, sticks of incense, a few twigs, bits of wood, a pine cone or two, all rested in an old frying pan they used once a year. They lit the bundle _inside_ it to guide their ancestors home. There were traditional bowls for this purpose, but they'd never got around to buying one, and using the old, beaten up pan had become part of their ritual. Many fires were lit directly onto the earth below.

There were no nearby neighbours, having bought the house for its space and view, but in the town below, outside the beach shack, and all around the island, in the small houses that surrounded Law's surgery, and in the coastal fishing huts, inhabitants were likewise lighting small evening fires, or switching on electrical lanterns to mark the way home for their loved ones.

Law leaned over to the charcoal-fired, portable grill resting on the asphalt, and turned two skewered fish; Aji marinated with soy and sesame. He pulled two beers from the icebox, stood and passed one to Marco.

The blond took it with thanks, and ran a fan back and forth across the smouldering pile, trying to get it to flare up. Law sat on their stoop, and popped his beer. Mercury, dog number three, moseyed over, and Law nuzzled her, then pulled two pieces of jerky for her from his pocket.

Once the wee beacon was ablaze, Marco joined him, having plated the fish, and thrown a few thick-sliced _erengi_ mushrooms onto the grill. Law stretched to the ice box again for lemon, which he put on the side of the plate.

The dog devoured her jerky in a couple of bites, and stared at the men intently, her tail moving slowly, matching her instincts, ready to pounce if one of them dropped a scrap of meat. Once she realised that neither was going to be clumsy or feed her, she stretched out, nearest Law, head on paws.

Lamie's favourite soft drink and Whitebeard's favourite sake sat by the altar, as did small samples of all the drinks and food favoured by the others. Law didn't always know or remember, so he took a guess based on the scant knowledge he had. Tea for his father, and he liked to think his mother had a spot of Kureha in her, so he'd put out a thimbleful of whiskey.

All prepared, the two pirate lovers waited for their rough and tumble makeshift family to once more cross their threshold. Ace had a few people to visit, but Marco knew some time would be spent with Law and himself, or more precisely, with him. Sabo and Garp were visiting Luffy, so Freckles wouldn't have to cover too much distance to catch up with everyone else once he left their own tea-towel strewn abode. If Luffy had eaten all the offerings, Ace might be back sooner than expected.

Cora, too, needed to visit Sengoku, but Law's small nuclear family stayed for the whole four days. He felt that Cora probably spent more time with him than the ex-admiral, but who really knew? Young Law had only known Rocinante (and never to address him by his true name) for such a short period of time, and had been without him for so long. Sengoku had raised him, and Law couldn't begrudge him that.

Of course the Heart and Whitebeard two didn't see them, they weren't even sure if they could feel them. Whatever breeze might blow caught the _furin_ bells, but the days were usually still. The spirits also languorous in the heat.

Law and Marco remembered them though, and all they had done for them, and all the two living men had been _unable_ to do for them. They hoped their decisions made them proud, for, in so many ways, Marco and Law had their lives, because their loved ones had given up theirs, had them taken away from them.

A few days later, after watching the bon dances and buying charred sweet corn from the food stalls that lined the roads of the village, they placed candles in paper lanterns, lit them and left them to float on the waters of one of the island's canals, along with the many others farewelling and guiding ancestors, until their return the next year.

Standing hand in hand, slapping away mosquitoes, (they _couldn't_ be seen against Law's tatts), the cicadas shrill – it definitely was a good way to see Fire Fist off, and the man who accidentally set himself on fire at any opportunity.

Considering how Lamie died, though, Law wasn't so sure, and grew sad at the thought. He leaned into Marco despite the sweat that soaked their shirts, and dipped his head rather than kiss him. It was too hot. The hair at the back of his neck was damp as if he'd stepped out from the shower. He only crowded his lover for a second.

Marco's hand slipped out of his as either man wiped a palm on their shirtfront or trouser leg, but they joined together again shortly. The need to comfort their hearts took priority over discomfort of the body.

Law usually only lit one candle for his mother, father and sister, so they could be together. He hoped. He hoped he didn't exclude any one of them.

Lamie had been so small. He had a hard time imagining her alone, and his fingers curled with a little more pressure into Marco's. If he'd taken her with him that night? What might have happened? He survived the disease after all, but would he want her to experience even one of the things he had?

This way, all three left on water, so maybe that gave them some control over the blaze, and they were now from the water, so they were well protected from heat and flames.

There was no point in thinking they didn't have peace. Like he had now. He was happy with his life. But living, surviving, certainly hadn't been free of apprehension.

As the lanterns drifted down the stream against the dark summer night, and Law's hand once again grew a little clammy in Marco's own, he also let go of the less welcome ghosts in his life. He didn't invite them to follow his own loved ones, except in terms of finally reaching the wide ocean where the sea winds and salt air would surely whittle and erode them into grit to build upon, rather than to destroy.

Law wasn't one for hyperbole, but he recognised as truth that his every breathing minute for so much of his life had been one of fear, hate and anxiety. This was fact, and he faced down the disquiet that arose even now, that wanted to snare him in those memories and judgment forever.

The candles guiding Ace, Cora, Whitebeard, his mother, father and sister, the ancestors of the village, followed the stream's current out to the ocean.

He looked across at Marco, that fire ability of his allowing him to glow in this heat like the mythical creature he was. Maybe only Law's finely tuned eyes could discern that. He wished it were cool enough to grab the ends of that towel around his neck and pull him close.

Later, he'd wipe both of them down before and after sex, so they could lie together and bear to touch each other's skin without the dewy layer of sweat wrought by humidity and exertion. The windows open, hoping for a breeze, the overhead fan lazily circulating the still air.

His smile would reach his eyes and mouth as Marco's face neared his own and he teased Law's lips in all the ways the doctor had taught him. It could be intense, rough, gentle and caring. Humdrum made the grade at times too. And there were nights when both were too tired to do much but grunt at one another, roll over and fall asleep.

Intensity usually morphed into laugher though, as Marco never got over the searching wonder reflected in Law's eyes when they were together, like some goddamn wide-eyed baby deer, knock-kneed, just waking up to its surroundings. The admiration contained within. And the sharp humour at the back of it all. Thank god that didn't disappear. He couldn't handle it if it did.

That look usually appeared on nights that took their emotional toll like these. _Yes_ , Law was his, free together. _Yes_ , he loved the surgeon. Goddamn it. Why did the dark-haired man still find surprise and so much gratitude in that? He just did. Marco too, if he really thought about it.

It was difficult to keep up the intensity of being a red-hot lover when your partner was grinning at you like a puppy though. Even if that look could promise the unlocking of treasures for Marco, if Law was in the mood. There was no-one more knowledgeable.

All the same, there were few things more enticing for him than that laugh rumbling from the younger man's chest to throat, and humming against his own lips, the air puffing into his own mouth pressed over Law's.

He could only smile in return when he felt Law's lips widen, his own body collapsing in muffled laughter on the surgeon's, hands flattening Law's, until the brunet freed them, lifted Marco's face and pulled him closer.

He wasn't vocal in the way of tumultuous passion and anything that loud needed to be questioned, because Law could deliver it on the spin of a dime. But when he lay with his eyes closed, pleasure and trust, the abeyance of ghosts, darting behind his eyelids and noticeable in the rise of his Adam's apple, the swallow of his throat, the sudden ripple of his abdomen, the legs that casually rested on him, or crossed behind him to pull him near, he had all the input he needed.

The groans of appreciation that whispered past his ear, or were heard from afar as he traced cheekbones, and cartilage, breastbones and boners.

If Marco held Law's head between his palms, Law might take one hand and place it on his permanently grazed cheek, as if everything that went into that scar's making could be erased by his lover's touch.

The Phoenix would slow a little at times like then. They both recognised the signposts, but Marco also knew Law liked his scars mapped and followed; the Heart pirate's reclaiming and offering of his skin, and the marks that made him, a way of spurning the intention of those who had inflicted them.

In his quiet, persistent and consistent way, Law was plenty loud enough for him.

Now, though, tall together, obviously together, joined only by the brush of their finger tips, they admired the flickering lights moving downstream, out of sight. Every year, there was a little less to let go of, each year, a little less that was of concern.

* * *

 **A/N:** And that's it. **Thanks all for reading.** **You made it this far, though.** 31 chapters, and some 100k+ of words. I'd love to know what you thought, good or bad. All comments and other forms of feedback are appreciated at any stage. Again, thanks for reading!

* * *

 **The ideas of** Sengoku getting the photos of Law's family is from Mai Kusakabe's **_Legacy_** , chapter 6, _Memories: The Visit_ , which is on ff. s/11545510/6/Legacy


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